


Growing Pains

by mertlekang



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, References to Depression, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6618712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mertlekang/pseuds/mertlekang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jinyoung moved to England to study and prove to his parents that he could make something of himself, but soon enough the pressure of new friendships and heartaches make getting a degree look easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Twinge

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic oh no please stop me i have real work that i should be doing ;n;

Jinyoung couldn't quite pinpoint the moment he accepted the fact that he was unusual. It was most likely when his mother had first referred to him as that exact term. 

Unusual. 

He could still remember the way his father had looked as he pored over his school report. His head in his hands at the kitchen table, a frown on his face. Jinyoung had hid on the stairs, watching every change in his father's expression with trepidation. 

It wasn't that he'd done exceptionally bad, but the high expectations on his shoulders were ones he'd never cared enough to carry. To her credit, his mother had made some attempt at defending him from his father's harsh words of disappointment. Yet, even she gave in and settled on him being simply unusual. 

At ten years old he couldn't have been expected to be much of anything yet, and the criticism lingered. Once you've been told that you're a certain way, you begin to believe it. His attitude changed in small ways here and there, his bright innocence fading to a warm glow. 

The word echoed in his subconscious, and he shied away from interactions for fear of being judged. Anyone who looked at him was judging him, and any compliment was a veiled criticism. 

This wasn't to say he had no spine, though. If anything, his inner self-doubt toughened him to the world. In the face of discipline he'd bite his lip raw to keep himself from talking back, and he'd once punched a guy in the face. It was an accident, but either way he was no wilting flower. 

Friendships were give or take in his life, and no effort was truly exerted in retaining them. He'd never clicked with anyone enough to see them as anything more than an acquaintance. The voice of doubt was always there, telling him they wouldn't stick around once they realised how strange he was. It wasn't worth the pain. 

Books were always more enjoyable than socialising with his peers anyway, because a book had a lot more to say than a spotty prepubescent. Flipping a page could take him to another world and paint a picture in his mind, and soon enough his hands learnt to spill the images onto paper. 

Of course, when the news got out that he could draw, he was in high demand at school. The glory was short lived, replaced by tedium and annoyance. Soon enough anyone who tentatively requested a portrait would be met with a blank stare and a weary sigh. 

His bedroom walls were plastered with sketches, which drew the intrigue of his parents. Seeing him actually show passion for something lit a small spark of hope within them, even if art wasn't exactly what they'd hoped for. 

His father had asked with dark intrigue why the faces of handsome boys were being used to replace his wallpaper. He'd just excused it as drawing from his imagination. Of course he was more used to seeing his own face, so the characteristics came easier to his hand. 

It was probably half true, but in his heart he just wanted to look at cute guys whenever he wanted to without drawing attention. See, drawing someone was different to taking a picture; with one you get a small conversation and a compliment, with the other you get your ass kicked and a police interrogation. 

Faces had always intrigued him. He never let his subject in on the fact he was tracing every inch of their features as he passed by. To draw was to relive whatever had enchanted him about the person before and immortalise the feeling in pencil. 

Needless to say his parents didn't quite grasp his talent, wishing he was a whiz at maths or something more useful. In the end they just acknowledged the fact that he was practically useless - in their eyes - at everything else and left him to it. 

Even so, Jinyoung knew he'd let them down. The shame was in their eyes when they looked at him, even if the words were never said. No compliments were spared for his art, only suggestions for improvement. 

There was no such thing as being good enough. Every piece of work was fueled by his will to create beauty, great enough to bring his parents pride. Though his self doubt often stilled his hands before anything could be achieved, the desire was enough to make him prolific. 

It was late at night, when the walls would shrink around him and the only sound was his own thudding heartbeat, that he'd tell himself the truth he couldn't accept. He was blaming his discomfort and guilt on something trivial, rather than facing the fact that the shame was in his own reflection. 

It was taboo to speak of it. Only by his grandmother's ramblings did he even hear about it, but the knowledge lingered in his heart. His mother had been pregnant with twins, but Jinyoung was the one to see life, to taste the air outside his mothers womb and scream at the thrill of it. 

There was never a word of resentment, of regret, but Jinyoung knew it was on his mother's mind, in his father's eyes. To know such a thing left him reaching for something he could never grasp. In his mind, every sigh of disappointment was laced with thoughts that his brother might have been different, and that Jinyoung had wasted what he'd stolen. 

The pressure to succeed only served to fuel his feelings of stagnation. There just wasn't a niche for someone with his skills, not where he was from. Adrift in a seemingly endless ocean and desperately trying to find land, he'd reached for the closest thing he could think of. 

His parents had been stunned at his fervent plea to study abroad, because money wasn't something they'd ever really had. It wasn't that they were poor, but they certainly weren't rich. Jinyoung hadn't actually expected them to agree, but he'd never asked for anything before and they were too taken aback to refuse. 

So, the first thing that crossed his mind when he stepped out of the airport, laden with luggage and the thrill of a new beginning, was how fucking cold it was. 

The choice of University had been out of his hands. It was the only place that would allow him to interview over Skype, and he was lucky that it wasn't too low in the league tables. Now that he was actually there, his impromptu decision was really sinking in. 

The sky looked as dark as his future. 

Rain dotted the pavement, and people rushed by as if they had a thousand places to be at once. An elderly woman waited beside him for the bus, tapping her foot and grumbling to herself. When Jinyoung offered her a polite smile she just scowled and returned her gaze to her watch with a click of her tongue. It was apparent that English people weren't as friendly as they were in the books he'd read. 

When he'd applied for accommodation, he hadn't actually read up on the University lodgings at all. So, saying his first impression of the place was a surprise was putting it lightly. 

Dragging his suitcases from the coach station, he made a point of not getting his hopes up. In his negative opinion, expecting good things always lead to disappointment. But when he turned onto the main street by his flat, it was hard to fight the joy bubbling in his chest. 

His artistic heart sang at the sight of intricate graffiti plastered over every wall and shutter, houses painted in every shade of the rainbow shining bright even in the rain. 

However, his glimpse of artistic freedom and fruition passed practically the second he turned the corner towards his building, a red-bricked monolith standing before him, squatting imposingly on the tiny side-street. Rubbish littered the entrance, even though there was a bin tentatively placed right outside the doors, and a daring glance upwards revealed dried sick staining the wall beneath one of the windows. 

All he could do was sigh and breathe deeply, because he'd known this would be an experience, and he was here now - there wasn't any turning back. He just hadn't expected the experience to start so soon. There was no elevator, and by the time he'd dragged his suitcases up three flights of stairs he was already missing home. 

The door chimed when he unlocked it, and the sound of his suitcases rolling down the laminated hallway was deafening, his eyes dubiously watching the doors lining the walls, terrified someone might peep out and try to speak to him. He wasn't antisocial, in fact he was always well liked when he spoke to people, he just felt overwhelmed enough as it was and he wasn't exactly eager to test out his self-taught English just yet. 

His room was at the end of the hallway, and he realised with dread that the other doors belonged to his flatmates. The horror hit him hard when he stepped inside his room and saw how small it was, meaning he'd be sharing the kitchen with those six other tenants. He already dreaded the awkward conversations that might arise should someone walk in while he was cooking, and he was sure he'd be having anxiety attacks whenever his stomach rumbled. On a positive note, at least he had an en-suite bathroom. He'd probably die if he had to sit on the toilet and fear the moment someone tried the handle.  

Crashing down on his single bed, he took in his new home with a sinking sense of woe. The decor was unsightly, and there was about enough floor space to lie horizontally between his bed and desk. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and tried to push away the negative thoughts prodding at his mind, because everything took a little getting used to and in the end it would be good for him - meeting new people, experiencing solitude and self-proficiency. 

But in the end he was on his own for the first time in his life - truly alone, not only in his mind as he had been before - and when the sound of heavy bass and rapid techno began to shake his ceiling, he was thankful it could at least muffle his soft sobs of insecurity. 

- 

He didn't have classes for another week, so he'd decided the next morning to gut up and get to know his housemates. It didn't take long for him to found out they were a bunch of pricks, and it took him even less time to grow tired of being referred to as 'Chinese guy' just because they couldn't be bothered to pronounce his name. Even when he repeatedly insisted that he was, in fact, Korean and that there was a difference, believe it or not. The fact that the main perpetrator had a name that sounded like some kind of unpronounceable antibiotic pissed him off even further. 

All six of them were guys, and all six of them looked like actual fungus. As in, he wouldn't be surprised if mushrooms could thrive in their dark, moist areas, or if birds suddenly decided to nest in their hair. For some reason he'd been under the illusion that westerners were savvy, handsome and fashionable - that maybe he'd meet a cute Daniel Radcliffe kind of chap and they'd make googly eyes from across the coffee shop, fall madly in love and adopt an unmanageable amount of dogs.  

He wasn't one to generalise, but if he were to base English guys off the batch he was living with, he'd rather revoke his homosexuality, settle down with a simple Korean girl, have 2.5 kids and cry every night than spend another second watching them respire. 

Needless to say, he made his introductions and split in record time. The rest of the day was spent unpacking, and a late night shopping trip was the final task on his list. What he hadn't expected upon returning was to walk into his kitchen and find a seriously fire-hazardous amount of people getting wasted.  

Maybe if he was someone else, he would've been excited at the prospect of a party, but Jinyoung wasn't someone else, and the only thoughts running through his mind as he stood in the doorway dumbly was whether he should expect to get his deposit back at the end of the year, because there was no way this place would be in one piece by the end of the night.  

It reeked of weed, and glancing at the smoke alarm revealed a plastic bag crudely wrapped around it to stop it going off. Well, at least these guys had some kind of intuition. In the split second his attention was occupied, a girl had caught his arrival. She crept towards him like some preying animal, and to his dismay stepping backwards only trapped him against the wall. 

His groceries were probably ruined considering how tightly he was clutching them to his chest, and he could smell vodka and cheese rolling off the girl in waves as she leaned in uncomfortably close. The scent was even worse when her mouth opened to whisper, 'Pretty cute, y'know, for an Asian guy.' 

Jinyoung recoiled, even though he was pressed firmly against the wall and had nowhere to recoil to. 'What's that even supposed to mean?' He croaked, but the girl just smirked drunkenly and stroked his cheek before walking back into the throng of people. He felt violated and a little bit dirty. 

His thoughts were too scattered from the strange encounter for him to make a hasty exit, and by the time he'd recovered it was too late. The sight of his housemates prowling over to him with glee in their eyes made his stomach drop to the floor. His groceries were snatched away in the blink of an eye and he was dragged reluctantly through the crowd, far too many faces gathered around him for his comfort.  

Being pressed against sweaty, clumsy bodies was bad enough, but suddenly a bottle of rum was rammed into his cheek.  

'Drink, drink, drink!' 

'I don't drink.' He yelled over the commotion, but of course they didn't care. He was the sacrificial lamb brought to slaughter for their entertainment. He really hadn't touched a drop of the stuff in his life, he'd only just turned twenty one and he didn't really have anyone to drink with anyway. When one of the guys twisted the cap off and tried persistently to pour the potent fluid down his throat, the smell was enough to know that he hadn't missed out on much.  

Despite his thrashing, the pressure didn't ebb. If anything, they grew more aggressive, clutching at his head and throat in an attempt to actually force it into his mouth. Within thirty second his shirt was drenched in the stuff and his eyes were watering from the scent, and he realised there was no escaping it.  

Fuck it, he thought. 

An hour later, he was hit with the foreboding sense that he really shouldn't have 'fucked' it. The bottle was long since empty, and he couldn't even taste it anymore. Three rounds of drinking games had passed by, and not understanding the rules meant he'd lost every time.  

Shitfaced didn't even come close to describing how inebriated he was. His face was warm and his eyelids were heavy enough that if he closed them he could easily fall asleep on the spot. Attempting to close them and do just that was a horrible idea, though, because it felt like he was on a rollercoaster in the dark without a safety belt, and he promptly opened his eyes before he could even think about throwing up. 

Shit moved fast when you were drunk, apparently, yet at the same time everything was slow, or maybe he'd just had his eyes closed for longer than he'd thought. Time passed like a series of photographs – one moment he was here, then he was there. Faces changed every time he blinked, and he forgot whether he was talking or just laughing drunkenly in peoples faces.  

Soon enough the latter seemed to be right. People were talking to him but he couldn't understand any of it, it was too fast and the music was too loud. When he tried to speak his tongue felt too big for his mouth, the vowels too difficult to manage. He swore people were looking at him differently now, too. They thought he was pathetic for being so weak after a few drinks, for being so bad at speaking English.  

It was suddenly hard to breathe and he stepped away only to trip on a kitchen stool and fall to the floor in a heap. The floor hadn't seem so close before, but it was cool against his burning cheek. Honestly he would've been content to sleep there on the sticky laminate, but he could hear the raucous laughter at his little stumble, and his cheeks grew even redder.  

Getting to his feet was an ordeal, and anyone watching would've thought he was putting on a slapstick performance. Finally he was vertical again, and he stumbled away while the world span around him, fighting through the throng of bodies in a panic. The hallway seemed a mile longer, his room the light at the end of the tunnel, and he practically dived through the door.  

The carpet scratched his cheek roughly, because for some reason the floor was in the wrong place. Or he'd fallen over again, either way it hurt and he still couldn't breathe right. His glasses were long gone, lost during his stumble, and no matter how much he blinked the fog over his eyes wouldn't clear. Mind racing, a thousand thoughts flew by as he lay there unable to move or breathe or focus. 

 _'Mom.'_ He cried pathetically, wishing he was home even if he'd get his ass whooped. It wasn't like he'd wanted to drink in the first place, none of this was his fault and he felt even more bitter for that. The vibration of music and chatter from the kitchen vibrated against his scratched cheek, and his heartbeat matched the tempo.  

His second day in a foreign country in the pursuit of a better life, and here he was having a panic attack on his bedroom floor. Panic attacks weren't exactly foreign to him, but being drunk during one was a whole new world of terror. His lungs felt too small, too tight to take in any air as he choked and gasped for breath. No matter how much he willed himself to calm down, his mind continued to race. 

A voice cut through the deafening noise within his mind, an American sounding accent, echoing and strange. For a moment he really thought the voice was in his head until he felt hands turning him onto his back, pulling him firmly into a bony embrace. The shock of it caught Jinyoung off guard and he fought for breath like fish out of water in the strangers arms, seeing a blurry yet handsome, worried face peering down at him. 

'Breathe, breathe - hey, it's alright. What's your name?' His intonation was soft, like someone trying to calm a child. Jinyoung could only shake his head frantically, tears in his eyes as he motioned to his chest as if the stranger could take the tightness away. 

'Don't think about it - it's all in your head, you can breathe just fine. I'm Mark, is this your flat?' 

The stranger had a certain serenity about him that Jinyoung subconsciously resigned himself to, the panic in his mind easing at the sound of his quiet yet firm voice. Still struggling for breath, he nodded in response as his lips refused to form words.  

'Ok, good, at least I don't have to carry you home or anything. I came here with a friend, didn't really expect to end up in this situation.' He smiled sympathetically down at Jinyoung, 'I saw you in the kitchen throwing drinks back like no tomorrow and thought it was only right to follow you, see if you were okay. Apparently I had the right idea.' 

'Sorry,' Jinyoung breathed, humiliated that somebody was seeing his moment of utter humiliation. Mark just let out a sweet, ringing laugh. He shook his head to deter Jinyoung's apology, shifting to allow Jinyoung some room to breathe. He sat back against the edge of his bed, his chest still hitching for breath even though the panic had mostly subsided, replaced by sheer embarrassment and an ache in his stomach.  

'It's alright, it's pretty overwhelming. I'm not much of a talker to be honest, but I've had panic attacks before so I'm glad I could help you out.' 

'Thank you.' Jinyoung managed, but his tongue was still heavy and foreign in his mouth. 'Not used to being around... ugh... so many. People, so many people. Not drink, either, I don't.' His words slurred, his head lolling as he fought to stay awake. Mark seemed amused at Jinyoung's disjointed muttering, but worry was still plain on his kind face. 

'Yeah, you're turning green.' 

'Like Shrek?' 

Mark burst out in sudden laughter, and Jinyoung just stared obliviously. 

'Sure, like Shrek.' 

Jinyoung wouldn't be surprised if he'd grown a third head at this point, and green certainly decribed how he felt. It was like the world was upside down, fighting to keep his eyes open and the contents of his stomach from coming out. 

'Jinyoung, my name's Jinyoung.' 

Mark nodded as if Jinyoung's name was the most interesting thing he'd heard all evening, and Jinyoung wondered if he was always this nice or if was just pity for the horrific mess he was in. 

'Well, nice to meet you, Jiny-' 

His body lurched forward against his will, and there was no time to even warn Mark before he was slumped in his lap, the smell of vomit flooding his senses. Things really couldn't get any worse, and it was all he could do not to cry. The humiliation swallowed him whole and he couldn't bring himself to sit up and face reality, simply going limp and resigning himself to the situation. 

This guy had just helped him through a panic attack and might have been his first chance at friendship, and he'd just puked in his lap. He breathed shakily and apologised weakly, the sound coming out as a mere mumble for fear he might break down in tears and embarrass himself even more.  

His eyelids were heavy, so heavy, but the pain in his stomach was gone now. Not to mention, Mark was warm. He was saying something but he couldn't hear properly anymore, couldn't focus on the words leaving his mouth. What else could he do but succumb to the pull of drunken sleepiness with the sound of Mark's deep voice rumbling in his ears? 

- 

When the light of day roused him to wakefulness, he was immediately aware of the fact that people weren't exaggerating about hangovers. His mouth felt like a barren wasteland; a dry, sandy desert of misery. He was starving, yet couldn't stomach the thought of eating. His eyes were aching and sore, his face felt hot and dry and his head was pounding as hard as the bass from upstairs. 

He buried his face further into his pillow, saddened at the unfamiliar scent, still too new to feel like home. Images of the night came back to him in chunks, projected against the insides of his aching eyelids, and with the memories came the shame. He recalled being pressured into drinking, dancing with a few people, doing shots, then collapsing on his bedroom floor and throwing up in someone's lap. 

Great. His father would be so proud. 

He groaned from the depths of his weary soul. When he risked opening his eyes again, it was to the sight of a glass of water on his bedside table, a scrap of paper beside it. Leaning cautiously on his elbow in an attempt to keep his stomach quiet, he squinted his eyes against the offensive sunlight spilling in though his open curtains. 

His glasses were God-knows-where, and he wasn't moving from his bed any time soon. Picking up the paper gingerly, it took him a good few minutes to read the simple sentence scrawled upon it in a messy script. 

'Congratulations on your hangover. Don't worry about being sick on me, I've had worse nights. See you around sometime, I hope. Mark.' 

It seemed safe to assume Mark was the guy he threw up all over, and if so, it was fair to guess he was the one who got him cleaned up and tucked safely in bed. He couldn't picture his face at all, and when he shoved his head back into his pillow with a sigh, he could only recall a strange laugh and a voice smooth enough to lull his tired mind back to sleep.


	2. Palpitations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's annoying, I know, but this isn't exactly an update! I've split the first chapter in half so it reads better and I've also re-written it as a whole because of the glaring spelling mistakes and lazy writing I was too embarrassed to leave alone. Sorry for the confusion! The next chapter will be out soon though <3

The rest of Jinyoung's week was spent in solitude as he slaved away over his summer projects and avoided the communal area at all costs. The fear of coming across as rude was completely disregarded in favor of his mental health. Just hearing his housemates scuttling around the house like rats was enough to trigger drunken flashbacks, and the sight of them might make him throw up all over again. 

Of course, he couldn't starve. He listened attentively to their routines, knowing exactly what hour of the day the kitchen would be a safe zone. Well, it still wasn't a safe zone. Nobody had tidied up after that party, and it didn't look like anybody would. An attempt at clearing away their mess resulted in even more mess appearing the next day, and he decided it was best to just leave the bomb site alone. His pots and pans and dishes were safely evacuated to his bedroom where they wouldn't be set on fire or left to grow mould forests. 

He'd given up on trying to figure out who this Mark guy was. In his opinion, it was best to just keep the mystery a mystery, because if he ever saw the guy again he'd have to get on his knees to apologise, and even that wouldn't balm his wounded dignity. 

When the first day of University finally arrived, he'd almost forgotten what it was to be around other human beings, which only served to add to his already buzzing nerves. It decided to pour down with rain the second he stepped out of his flat, and he stood at the bus stop in utter misery waiting way past the due time. For such a developed country, England had the worst public transport, and he could see why the old woman outside the airport was so pissed off. 

It was half an hour later than it should've been when he was finally crammed into the heaving bus, his A1 portfolio blocking up two seats and causing a few irritated glances to be thrown his way. All he could do was press his tired face against the cool window pane, watching the droplets of rain cascade and make patterns over the passing scenery.  

Every sharp turn the driver made caused his head to thud against the glass, but at least he could see the sights he'd imagined in all the books he'd read. English houses were like little model villages, narrow and tall and crammed together impossibly. Though he was sodden and glum and chilled to the bone, the first glimpse of his campus was enough to perk his spirits, if only slightly. 

Rustic country houses lined the approach down he narrow road, and a meadow spanned beyond. Deer grazed casually in the misty rain, and as the bus made an awkward attempt at entering the surprisingly small campus, he was pleased to see small paths lined with trees and various places he'd have to explore.  

The joy of nature quickly faded the second he stepped off the bus, immediately disoriented and soaked once again as he lugged his heavy portfolio to his studio. Of course, he got lost. The campus couldn't have been more than six or seven buildings, but it still took him a good twenty minutes to find his studio.  

His cheeks were burning with exertion and embarrassment when he finally burst into the room, apologising profusely. To make matters worse he'd completely forgotten for a moment that westerners didn't bow, which served to make him look like an even bigger idiot. Blank faces stared back with disinterest - he'd never seen so many white people in one room - and the tutors simply continued on with the briefing he'd interrupted.  

It was either the instinct to find a familiar face or just that the space beside the guy was empty, but he immediately made a beeline for the first Asian guy he saw, squelching as he went.There was no containing the hefty sigh that left his lips as soon as he sat on the table, shrugging off his heavy, soggy coat. Seriously, it was September, and he dreaded to think what Winter was like here.  

He busied himself with unzipping his backpack and withdrawing his notebook, trying to fight the feeling he was being stared at, but when he looked up he was surprised to see that he hadn't been imagining things.  

'You're not great at first impressions, are you?' 

Jinyoung was taken aback for a moment, forgetting his words, because not only was the guy he'd sat next to disarmingly handsome, there was also something unnervingly familiar about him. Not to mention he hadn't expected his English to be so fluent, which was probably a little stereotypical, however the thought didn't sound rude until he put it into words.  

'Your English is really good!' 

The statement accompanied by Jinyoung's wide eyed amazement really didn't do him any favors, and he cringed the second the words left his lips. To his relief the guy didn't even seem to care, simply cracking a smile and nodding. It was either some serious deja vu, or Jinyoung had met this guy in a past life. 

'I'm actually from California, but I'll take the compliment. You're Korean right?' 

There was something disturbingly pleasing about not being immediately referred to as Chinese, like his housemates had so fervently done. He couldn't help it if his reaction ended up sounding a little too eager.  

'Oh! How'd you guess?' 

'Three of my housemates are Korean, your accent is similar, and Jinyoung's a pretty typical Korean name, right?' 

Okay, shit was getting too weird. 'Either that was a really good guess or you've met me before?' 

'Ah, I wondered why you ignored me at the bus stop this morning.' The guy seemed relieved, but Jinyoung was still perplexed and slightly frightened he might already have a stalker. 'You don't remember? You were sick on me-' 

'Oh, God.' Jinyoung moaned in anguish, drawing a few glances from the class before he leaned in quietly. 'You're Mark? I'm so, so sorry.' 

'It's alright, it was pretty funny, really.' 

Jinyoung scoffed, rolling his eyes at the obvious glee on Mark's face. 'I'm glad you were entertained, I think I'm still hungover.' 

'I'd say you'll get used to it, but I'd be lying.' 

There was something easy about Mark, and the fact he was so nonplussed about Jinyoung's little mishap made Jinyoung like him even more. Though, looking at his face still brought back humiliating memories of being hunched over the toilet, crying about nothing while Mark rubbed his back patiently. He was pretty sure Mark had undressed him and fought with his useless, limp body to pop him into pyjama's, too, just to add to the mortification. 

Nevertheless Jinyoung was already sticking his claws into Mark and holding on for dear life, even if the poor guy didn't know it yet. He didn't know if he'd make another friend in this wilderness, and he'd be damned if he was letting this one get away. 

After a long, drawn out talk about various things Jinyoung either didn't care about or was simply too overwhelmed to even consider remembering, they were told to lay their portfolio's out and take a walk around the room to view each other's work. In Jinyoung's case, that meant it was time to watch with beady eyes what kind of expressions people were making when they saw his art while he compared himself to others. 

He'd never been around people with the same passion as him before, and his mind insisted that he wasn't good enough to be there with every portfolio he glanced at. The voice at the back of his head insisted the bar was too high and he was out of his depth, and a sinking feeling swirled in his stomach. 

Mark's portfolio was much like the man himself, calming and serene. Every spread was filled with landscapes in set colour schemes that were dreamlike in their illustration and loose in technique, as if he was watching the world go by without taking much part in it. 

Self doubt and negative thoughts were an every day thing for Jinyoung, but the feelings were so much more intense when it came to his art. Intrusive ideas of everything and anything he was or could be lacking became too much to bear, and being in that room was becoming increasingly suffocating. Thankfully the torture was short, and he escaped at breakneck speed, forgetting Mark for a moment until his firm hand squeezed his shoulder in the lunch queue. 

'Hey, I heard a lot of people complimenting your stuff, I really liked it.' 

'It's the first day, people were just being nice.' He negated instantly, shaking his head. 'Thanks, though.' Something tingled at the thought of Mark going out of his way to catch up with him, and he wished he could have taken his encouragement with more grace.  

Mark raised an eyebrow, but whatever he was going to say was cut short when it was his turn to order. Jinyoung watched with intrigue as he seemed to grow smaller, meeker, his voice timid as he fumbled over his coffee order. He didn't meet the waitresses eyes once, dropping his change into her hand and apologising in a rush when it spilled out and rolled over the counter. 

So, Mark was struggling too. 

In no way did seeing someone elses suffering make him feel good, but it definitely set him at ease. He hadn't come across as nervous in the studio, when it was just the two of them, but Jinyoung guessed it was because Mark had already seen the worst of Jinyoung so he didn't have to fret over his own faults. Watching him apologise profusely as he continued to drop the coins, Jinyoung actually felt like the confident one. 

To their unanimous surprise, the rain had completely passed to welcome sunlight and blue skies. They decided to sit outside, taking a spot beneath a shabby canopy on a dry patch of grass. As they sipped their coffee's, they just watched the other students go by in a comfortable silence. 

Jinyoung was still encountering a culture shock, having isolated himself in his bedroom since he'd arrived. People dressed terribly - he wouldn't be surprised if half of these people had just rolled out of bed. Jinyoung wasn't exactly a fashionista himself, but at least his uniform of grey hoodie and whitewashed jeans looked _clean._  

Seeing so many young people smoking was also pretty bizarre, but what had really caught his attention was the sight of two guys pecking each other on the lips without an ounce of shame or secrecy. Nobody even glanced at them or gave any indication it was out of the ordinary, and it was frightening to know how free he actually was. 

'So,' Mark interrupted the comfortable silence between them, leaning back on the grass casually. 'Why'd you come to England?' 

'I've been asking myself that since I got here.' He laughed, and Mark giggled softly. 'Honestly I just wanted to escape and ended up here. I'm not very smart, and I can't disappoint my parents as much when I'm this far away.' He shrugged, sipping his coffee as Mark eyed him dubiously before folding his arms behind his head. 

'I don't really know you, but I can see you're far from dumb, I mean, your English is perfect.' 

Jinyoung scoffed to himself, flustered at the compliment, because he knew he was far from perfect. 'I read a lot of books. Besides, I didn't say I was dumb, I just don't have much to impress people with.' 

Mark's gaze was steady where he looked up at Jinyoung, as if he was genuinely confused by his self-doubt. 'You should have more faith in yourself. I think you're pretty impressive and I've just met you.' 

He smiled awkwardly, dodging Mark's attempts at reassurance as if they were bullets. His heart was beating in a funny kind of way and his stomach didn't feel quite right. Well, if there was something he really was good at, it was deflection. 'What about you, why are you here?' 

'My Dad moved here for work a few years ago, the rest of us joined him recently. My brother is pretty clever so I just let him be the model child, because if I'm honest I can't be bothered with all that pressure.'  

He smirked, and Jinyoung chuckled lightly, watching him close his eyes and sigh. He was handsome, really, and though he wasn't Jinyoung's usual type, he still piqued his curiosity enough to consider it for a second. 

 _Just_ a second. 

Conversation flowed easily between them on the walk home, enjoying the sunlight together. For once, it seemed like somebody actually wanted to be his friend and Jinyoung felt like he had at least one foothold in this place to keep him sane. Mark didn't live in halls like Jinyoung, instead having moved into a random house share that just so happened to consist entirely of Asian guys. 

At length he babbled about one house mate in particular, a guy from Hong Kong. Apparently he was overwhelming to be around at first, constantly pandering for Mark's attention. According to Mark, he spoke so much for the first few days that Mark genuinely heard his voice in his own dreams, chattering incessantly; yet something clicked between them early on and now they just sat around in his bedroom most days, sometimes talking, other times saying nothing at all. 

Honestly, Jinyoung was a little bit jealous. He was already desperate just to have somebody to speak with in his own language and it had only been a week. The idea of going back to his flat and having someone to hang out with and watch films with seemed like a dream.  

It was too soon when Mark parted ways with him, encouraging Jinyoung to contact him if he was ever feeling bored or wanted to meet up at University. He returned the sentiment, though he couldn't help doubting whether Mark was just being polite or if he genuinely meant it. 

The sound of electro was audible before he even opened the door to his flat, shaking the walls and bringing his mood down straight away. He threw together a quick dinner, scraping by on the bare minimum of conversation with his housemates before he made a beeline for his bedroom, kicking his shoes off the second he stepped inside and sighing his worries away. 

After a long shower he curled up before his desk, blocking the noise of the world out as he put his earphones in. He began to sketch the faces he'd seen that day, his mind taking a break from thinking. It always calmed him, drawing people. The way the slightest slope of a nose or sweep of an eyelash could define a person so entirely fascinated him, and half the time during conversation he was tracing people with his eyes, taking in every contour, every blemish. 

He'd listened to the whole audiobook of the Iliad before he realised just how much his neck ached, how numb his backside was, and how ridiculously late it was. An intimate etching of Mark's profile sat before him as he'd looked on the grass earlier that day, palm shielding his closed eyes from the sunlight and a small smile on his full lips. 

With a drawn out sigh he removed his earphones and let his tired eyes flutter shut, listening to the students outside his window screaming and shouting obnoxiously as they headed out to the clubs. When he brushed his teeth, he traced his own reflection, as he did every night, eyes raking over his face for any change, any improvement.  

He took off his glasses, scraped his fingers through his blunt bangs, straightened his posture and tugged at his baggy sweater, but as always he found himself unfixable. He deflated entirely, clicking off the light and walking away from the vision of himself he hated to see. 

His bed still didn't feel like it belonged to him yet, still too fresh and stiff. Home smelt like his mothers perfume and the ink from the typewriter his father still insisted was better than a laptop. In the dark, it was even more apparent that being miles away from home meant nothing, because running away from your problems really only created more in the end. 

- 

Days flew by far too quickly for Jinyoung's comfort, and it wasn't long before he decided it was pointless to venture to campus every day when all his projects could easily be done at home. Every lecture he attended left him confused over what exactly he was supposed to be learning, and every review session with his tutors drained the soul from his body. 

Soon enough the joy of seeing Mark at University wasn't enough to draw him from the warmth of his bed early in the morning, to the point where Mark had stopped bothering to text him inquiries as to whether they'd be meeting up. There really wasn't any pressure with Mark to keep up with him or impress him. Somehow Jinyoung just knew he'd be around when he needed him, and he hoped Mark knew it went both ways. 

The first month of University was spent working dligently at his desk, sketching and painting and filling his sketchbooks to bursting. The second month saw his focus dissolve to procrastination, days spent clicking around on his laptop, streaming episode after episode of running man while eating noodles in unwashed pyjamas.  

He saw Mark here and there when he did make the effort to show his face at University, and he never questioned his absence. Jinyoung didn't know what he'd tell him if he asked, because he had no idea what this absent feeling in his chest was. For some reason, he just didn't want to be anywhere at all and his bedroom was the closest to nowhere he had. 

It wasn't exactly that he didn't want to go, because he was dying to be around people and feel included, but something always held him back. All in all, he was just a coward, afraid to leave his comfort zone. 

November had rolled around in the blink of an eye. Whenever he picked up his pencil, a weight settled upon him and his mind churned out reason after reason as to why he wasn't good enough, why it was pointless to even try. His appearance at lectures became a rarity, and Mark's texts were left unread. 

It felt like he was walking around in a dream, but one thing made him wake up for a moment. He'd popped into the kitchen one night to make some dinner only to find one of his housemates doing a line off the counter as if it was nothing. The situation was so surreal he couldn't do anything but stare, his housemate even offering him some. His mother would well and truly have a heart attack if she could see the hell he'd ended up in. 

So, the kitchen became an even scarier place than before, and every time he checked his reflection he was thinner. His skin was paler from being inside constantly, and even after waking up he would lie in bed with the curtains drawn and simply exist. The sound of his housemates stomping around became a sort of soundtrack in the silence, and his heart felt heavy and burdened. 

There was a pressure building within him and he couldn't decide whether he was going to implode or explode. To add insult to aching injury, it was with horror that he opened his emails to the sight of a pending presentation. Nothing was worse than standing before a room of people and trying to persuade them that you were worth listening to.  

'I'm gonna die.' 

'That makes two of us.' Mark sighed heavily over his coffee while they gathered their courage in the canteen the next morning, both ghosts of their usual selves. 'Did you sleep at all last night? You look rough.' 

Jinyoung sat back on the uncomfortable beanbag he was being swallowed by, closing his sore eyes. 'I couldn't sleep even if I wanted to, every time I close my eyes I see every single thing that could go wrong.' 

'Like?' 

'My face melts off. I forget how to speak English. Rabid dogs come running into the classroom and tear me apart limb by limb. I actually genuinely physically shit my pants. The list goes on.' 

Mark just shrugged and offered a small sympathetic smile, leaning forward to squeeze Jinyoung's knee in comfort. The simple touch was enough to startle Jinyoung for a second, because it had been so long since he'd felt the warmth of another human being and he was starved for it. Mark's hand was gone as soon as it came, and it was scary just how alone Jinyoung felt without it.  

'You'll be fine, at least we'll both be suffering. Whoever cries buys lunch, yeah?' Jinyoung's face soured, and he groaned at the sight of Mark making a move to stand. 'We're gonna be late, let's just get it over with.' 

He didn't go without a fight and in the end Mark dragged him up from his beanbag as he wailed in misery, tugging him away to his doom. 

The whole night had been spent panicking over every detail. Forgoing sleep to meticulously put together his powerpoint like he was about to pitch a career changing business plan left him exhausted, and his notes didn't even make sense to him anymore as he clutched them tightly in his clammy hands. For a moment, he wondered if dropping out was worth the shame.  

Even though his heart was thrumming so hard it could break a rib, the feel of Mark's knee jittering against his own as they waited their turn gave him some small relief. It was a risk to reach the small distance between them and entwine his fingers with Mark's own, but Mark didn't hesitate to squeeze tightly in return. 

It was amazing how quickly the confidence he'd tried to build like stoking a small fire just blew away at the sound of his name, and he got to his feet like a man who's soul had already left his body. He could feel every eye in the room on his back while he fought to set up his presentation, flustered and dizzy, barely registering anything he was doing as his body worked on autopilot. 

When he finally ran out of things to prepare, he turned to the class as if he was facing the firing squad. All he could do was focus on Mark's encouraging smile like he was a distant lifeboat drifting on choppy waters.  

Drawing in a deep breath, he gripped notes tight enough to wrinkle the paper, but the oment he looked at the English written there his mouth ran dry. The paper shook in his trembling hands, the clunky words leaving his sandpaper lips in stutters and halted breaths.  

He was barely through the first sentence when he heard a soft sigh, the sound of distracted conversation from the back of the room. Though he tried to ignore it, tried to start over from where he was, his throat was completely tight and his legs were turning to jelly. As shit as he felt, he must have looked it too, because a quick glance at Mark showed wide eyes and panic. 

'Jinyoung, take as long as you need.' 

He didn't make any move to look at his teacher even though he nodded in response, too embarrassed to attempt glancing up again, not even to look at Mark. He needed to get the words out, needed to get this over with. If only his stupid mouth would move. He could get through this, had to get through this, for his pride. 

He drew a breath for the first time in nearly a minute, his lungs aching. To his relief, words finally left him in a nervous rush as his tongue twisted around every extended syllable. Nothing he was saying made sense to him, it was all gibberish to his ears. So, the second he realised he'd mispronounced a word, heard a small snicker from the back of the class, it was all over. 

The biggest mistake was looking up. His stomach fell through the floor, a chasm opening within him, and he genuinely thought he might faint. Mark was mouthing something at him but his mind was racing too fast to comprehend. All he could see were smirks and sniggers, and he couldn't take another second. 

'Sorry, sorry-' He mumbled, hiding his burning face. Stumbling from the room on shaking legs, he collapsed against the wall outside and gasped for breath. His notes were crumpled in his fist, the ink bleeding over his sweaty palm, and humiliation burned his cheeks, stung his eyes with tears. 

What an idiot, what a waste. 

He wanted so badly to blame it on the language barrier, but he'd studied so hard there was no excuse but his own weakness. At the sound of the door opening, he swiped at his cheeks in a hurry to save the last shred of his dignity. There was no need, though, because a bony arm was wrapped around him soon enough only to feel a bony arm pulling him into a tight embrace, a warm voice rumbling against his ear, deja vu of a night not too dissimilar save for the influence of alcohol. 

'Don't beat yourself up about it.' 

'I fucked up.' 

'Everybody in there fucked up, nobody likes speaking in front of people. Besides, none of them have heard you talk before, you can just say your English is bad.' Mark reassured him calmly, and Jinyoung still couldn't be more thankful he had someone like him to rely on. 

The reality of the situation weighed heavier by the second, and the more he calmed down the more mortified he felt. 'It's so stupid, I'm so stupid.' 

'Hey, at least when I freak out up there I'll look calm compared to you, huh?' Mark chuckled, swaying him side to side and making Jinyoung laugh despite his tears. He leaned back with a sigh, keeping Jinyoung pulled into his side, and he was thankful for the contact.  

'It'll get better the more you do it, besides, you don't know anyone in there so it's gonna feel like they're all watching you, when they're really too busy worrying about their own shit. Let's go back in, you can watch me have a heart attack this time. You lost, by the way.' 

'Lost what?' Jinyoung asked, still dizzy from not breathing properly for nearly ten minutes, and Mark stood up with a grin. 

'You cried, so you're buying lunch. Your face gets really puffy when you blubber, doesn't it?' 

'Wow, I feel so much better now, you bitch.' 

'Such foul language from such a nice boy-' 

'Oh my God, let's just get this over with before I hit you.' Jinyoung couldn't fight the smile tugging at his lips as Mark ruffled his hair, holding out a hand to pull him up from the floor, which Jinyoung took with resigned dread. 

Mark did fine, really. Though Jinyoung didn't miss the way his hands were trembling, or how his voice broke on a few words here and there. The second he sat back down he melted into the seat, throwing his head back in relief while Jinyoung patted his knee.  

Watching the other students with fresh eyes, he could see Mark was right. Nobody was watching the people speaking, too busy reading their notes or staring blankly at nothing in their nervousness while those presenting stumbled over their words with red faces. 

One kid in particular - he looked younger than all of them - looked like he wanted to die even if he was trying to get everyone to laugh at his mistakes, at one point even hitting the whip half way through a sentence. Jinyoung was stunned into awed silence, while Mark watched on tiredly.  

'Since when has he been in this class?' He whispered, because he'd seriously never noticed him before, and it was impossible that he'd been there this whole time without Jinyoung even acknowledging him. He stuck out like a sore thumb, dressed like he was going on stage and legs so thin Jinyoung felt a strong need to feed him like an over-doting mother. 

'He's never here, he stays at home most of the time.' 

'You know him?' 

'I live with the guy.' 

- 

'That's ridiculous.' 

'I swear, I've seen him do it. He dabs every single morning when he wakes up.' 

'He walked in on me in the shower once and just dabbed out of the room real slow. Surreal.' 

Jinyoung jumped out of skin at the appearance of a grinning blonde leaning between him and Mark, the thinner man nearly scalding himself on his coffee. 'Fuck, Jackson, don't creep up.' 

'I've been stood here for ages, you guys were just too busy making googly eyes at each other.' Jackson rolled his eyes dramatically. Jinyoung looked at Mark for any kind of explanation, to which Mark simply sighed. 

'Jinyoung, this is-' 

'Jackson!' The blonde swung over the back of the sofa nimbly, landing between the two of them with a bounce and a grin before leaning a little too close for Jinyoung's comfort. 'Heard a lot about you, Jinyoung. Think Markie-Pooh's got a little crush on you, won't shut up about you.' He winked, pulling Mark into a headlock. 'He's mine, though, so keep your paws off, right Markie-' 

'I don't date outside my own species.' Mark rebutted with a giggle, nipping at Jackson's forearm until he was freed. 

'I always thought you were a little too into dogs. Mystery solved.' Jackson sat back with a grin, folding his arms while Mark just shook his head with a laugh. 

'Gross. This is the guy I live with who doesn't shut up, if you hadn't already guessed.' 

Jinyoung wasn't put off at all; he always liked people who talked a lot because it meant he didn't have to. 'Nice to meet you, guy who doesn't shut up.' He grinned, and Jackson returned it tenfold. 'What do you study?' 

'Chemistry.' 

'Really?' 

Mark leaned across with a tired expression. 'Don't listen to him, he does health and nutrition.' 

Jackson threw his head back and groaned. 'Mark! Do you have to ruin my pick-up lines every damn time?' 

'They don't work anyway.' Mark mumbled, resting his head on Jinyoung's lap and stretching out across Jackson lazily. The blonde pulled a face like he'd been slapped before turning to Jinyoung with fiery determination. 

'Let's let Jinyoung decide.' 

'Do I have to?' 

'N-' 

'-Yes.' Jackson slapped his palm over Mark's mouth and smoothly slipped his arm on the backrest behind Jinyoung, leaning in seedily. 'I want to stick to you like glue-cose.' 

Jinyoung's lip quivered as he tried not to laugh in Jackson's face, feeling Mark trembling with muffled giggles. 'Please tell me you don't say that to people.' 

'Wait, wait wait.' Jackson closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath before focusing on Jinyoung again with even more passion, enough that Jinyoung actually recoiled from his steamy, sleazy gaze. 'You must be auxin, 'cause you're causing me to have rapid stem elongation.' He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Jinyoung could only shake his head in amused pity. 

'I have no idea what that means, please stop-' 

'We fit together like the sticky ends of recombinant DNA.' 

Mark was giggling hysterically even with Jackson's palm over his mouth, but Jinyoung genuinely didn't understand what Jackson was saying, though he assumed it was supposed to sound dirty. 

'Does your body consist of Oxygen and Neon? 'Cause you're the ONe.' 

Mark finally pulled Jackson's hand away, gasping for breath and wiping the tears from his eyes. 'Why are you even here, Jacks? Jinyoung you can move, you know, he's used to people walking away from him.' 

Jackson withdrew his arm to hold onto Mark's cheeks, leaning down as if to kiss him. 'Jealous, huh?' 

It was a spectacle to watch, really. Much more enjoyable when he wasn't on the receiving end of it. Mark had nowhere to go to avoid Jackson's impending lips, suffering a wet smooch on the cheek despite his screams for Jinyoung's help. He rolled off Jackson's lap and scuttled over to Jinyoung's side of the sofa, rubbing at his cheek violently with a scowl that didn't quite match the flush in his cheeks and the smile that he couldn't seem to fight from his lips. 

'Seriously, your campus is miles away, don't tell me you came all this way just to torture me.' 

'Well, torturing you made the journey worth it, but I actually had to take a book out of this library for my essay.' 

'You have essays already?' Jinyoung raised his eyebrows, 'How many words?' 

'9000. I have three this term.' 

'That's rough, we only have one a year, 1000 words.' 

'Are you kidding me?' 

'Art.' Jinyoung couldn't help put snicker, watching Jackson pout miserably. 

'Whatever. You two can laugh all you want but at least I'll get a job out of my degree.' 

Mark puffed out a short breath of air patronisingly. 'Yeah, as a phys ed teacher.' 

'Hey, hey- let's not get nasty guys.' Jinyoung spread his arms to keep the two of them apart, satisfied when they both fell back against the sofa calmly. Honestly, he felt powerful, and he wondered how often he could abuse it.  

He'd already forgotten Jackson was a complete stranger, and he could see why Mark felt at ease around him; there was a noisiness to him, sure, but he knew when to ease off and when to play. Jinyoung kind of wanted to see how long he could talk for, like a personal radio. 

There was a screen in front of them showing general campus information and events, and the three of them somehow ended up watching the messages scroll by in a mute daze for a while. Jackson obviously wasn't happy with the silence, his knee bouncing impatiently beside Jinyoung's as if he couldn't handle being quiet for more than second.  

'Bambam's in your class, right?' 

'Who?' 

'Thai, super skinny, nearly put his back out whipping during his presentation today.' Mark supplied with a resigned chuckle, and Jinyoung was even more confused. 

'Bambam? What kind of name is that?' 

'Nobody can pronounce his real name except for Youngjae.' Mark waved his hand like it explained everything, but Jackson caught the utter blankness on Jinyoung's face. 

'Youngjae's one of our housemates. You should come round some time, it's pretty fun at our place.' 

Jinyoung was warmed by the invitation, even if Mark had already extended it a while a go. 'How many of you are there?' 

'Me, Bambam, Mark, Jaebum, Youngjae, Yugyeom. Six of us. One bathroom.' Jackson pulled a face, 'Jaebum's the only who cleans, so we try and stay on his good side, even if he is great to wind up. We're going out for drinks this weekend, come with us.' 

'Thanks but I don't really, uh, drink.' 

Mark scoffed beside him, and he elbowed him hard. 

'Inside joke?' Jackson grinned, eager to be in on the secret. With a tired smile Jinyoung just shook his head and waved his hand to dissuade him from prying. 

'Ah, it's nothing. I just stay in my room most of the time, I'm not really the partying type.' 

'Excuses, excuses.' Jackson uttered, a dark look in his eyes as he leaned in with determination. 'I'll get you drunk someday, Jinyoung. Someday soon.'


	3. Swelling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my computer is sluggish af and i use microsoft word online to write fics so any spelling errors etc will always be fixed after i post a chapter (its impossible to edit when your laptop is screaming) thank you for putting up with it! now lets get some JJP tension in the room

'Hey, I'm outside.'  

Jinyoung groaned as he pulled his covers off groggily, slipping on his glasses and walking over to his window. Tugging back the curtains revealed Mark looking up at him with a grin in his pyjamas and a hoodie.  

'It's two in the morning...' Jinyoung croaked. He'd only just managed to get to sleep, and he really hoped Mark just wanted to come in and snuggle.   

'Get some shoes on, let's go for a walk.'  

'Are you crazy?'   

Mark ended the call, and Jinyoung glared at him through the window. Even if he had pretty much nothing to do tomorrow, it was still a crime to disturb his sleep. Mark would learn his lesson soon enough.  

A late Autumn breeze blew right through him the second he left his building, and he stalked up to Mark grumpily, a tried scowl firmly set on his features. 'Explain.'  

'I was bored.'  

Jinyoung turned on his heel and made to go back to his room, but Mark caught him with a giggle and dragged him along.  

'I hate you so much.'  

'Don't tell lies, Jinyoung, you're no good at it.'  

Their hair blew here and there in the wind, both of them shivering as they walked to nowhere. Everything was eerily quiet in the night, only a few drunkards wandering about to give any sense of life. Mark didn't say a word, and Jinyoung didn't want to break the surreal silence surrounding the two of them. It was as if they had their own world and any sound they made would make it shatter around them.  

They ended up in a park high up on a hill, the city lights twinkling before them. Sitting on a swing set, they watched the stars with only the sound of their feet scuffing the asphalt and their quiet breaths. Mark began to swing in earnest, and Jinyoung watched in awe as he went higher and higher, eventually spinning the whole way around.  

He screamed his lungs out when Mark jumped off and came running up behind him, pulling Jinyoung's seat all the way back and pushing hard. He'd always had a fear of heights, and he fought to bring himself to a halt before running after Mark for revenge.   

Hysterics ensued, the two of them chasing each other around the playground like children and throwing scraps of bark in their faces until they were disheveled and exhausted. They lay back on the damp grass, out of breath and holding hands tightly to fight the chill of the night. With the stars blinking down at him and Mark's fingers entwined with his own, he wondered what he'd done to deserve someone like him in his life.   

He came to the conclusion that it didn't matter. In that moment, he was there. He had him, and he was happy.  

'Come over on Saturday.' Mark breathed, and Jinyoung turned his head to see him still gazing up at the sky. Mark really was a beautiful guy, and Jinyoung wondered if he'd ever be able to draw him right.  

'What's happening Saturday?'  

'Guy Fawkes night. People set off fireworks to celebrate some 18th century terrorism or something; there's a hill near our place where you can see the whole city. We'll probably go to a club after that, but you don't have to come to that if you don't want to.'  

Jinyoung chuckled softly. 'As long as I don't end up on the floor again, I think I'll take you up on the invite this time.'  

Mark rolled his head towards him with a smile, squeezing his palm before turning to watch the stars again.   

'Good. I know someone pretty eager to meet you.'  

-  

The air was so moist he had to keep taking his glasses off to wipe away the condensation as he walked to Marks place. He passed by four or five times, anxious that he might ring the wrong doorbell and checking the address over and over again. He even considered whether to give Mark a call just to be completely sure he wouldn't humiliate himself.  

'Courage, Jinyoung, courage.'  

When he finally walked up the path, he took note of the fact that the garden was an overgrown mess and littered with rubbish, a complete contrast to the houses on either side. Feeling more comfortable that he had the right house, he took a breath and pushed the doorbell. The buzz of it echoed through the door and a long silence followed, but soon enough he heard a door open from inside and feet stomping down the stairs.  

Jinyoung had a habit of standing really close to the door when he was nervous. To say he was shocked when he came face to face with a complete stranger was a total understatement. Sharp eyes peered at him from behind a curtain of wet, black bangs. His eyes may have trailed lower for a moment, taking in the sight of a bare torso and a towel hanging loosely off the guys narrow hips.  

The only thing that drew his eyes away was the sound of a rumbling voice speaking to him in a language he hadn't heard in far too long..  

'You're Jinyoung right? You're pretty early.'  

Damn, he was fine. If his torso was distracting, his face was just as wonderful. Of course, his mind was speaking in purely artistic terms. If all the life models at University looked like this guy, he might've actually signed up to a class.  

'Sorry, I thought I'd get lost on the way-' His native tongue was suddenly a lot stranger to wrap his tongue around, but he'd missed the sound of it dearly.  

'Well, Mark and Jacks are out buying booze, so come inside anyway. It's freezing and I think my dicks turning into popsicle.'   

The guy shuffled away, rubbing his toned arms to warm himself up and Jinyoung admired him from the back for a lingering moment as he stepped into the house. His towel was hugging his backside just right, and he was utterly disappointed when the guy isappeared into another room.   

As he slipped his shoes off, a quick look around made it immediately apparent that a bunch of guys lived there. There was a mountain of shoes around him and mud up the walls, a cracked mirror in the hallway and a potent smell of old gym socks and sweat.  

Still, it was cosy enough.  

The stranger had really thrown him off, because Jinyoung liked to rehearse situations before he encountered them, and he hadn’t factored in the anomaly of Mark not being there. He wished he'd called him before ringing the bell, but all he could do right then was take a deep breath and let the situation play out.  

When he followed the guy into the room, he understood the awful smell. There were clothes hanging off the furniture, dirty dishes piled high on every surface, cans of beer stacked artfully on the coffee table. To his credit, the guy was making an effort to clean up, rushing here and there like he was ashamed for Jinyoung to see the state he lived in.  

'Excuse the mess,' He mumbled when he caught Jinyoung's gaze, though he had no idea Jinyoung was more interested in the fact he was bending over. 'Kids never clean their shit up. I thought if I left it for a while they'd get their asses in gear but it just got worse. I don't understand how they can sit around in their own shit.'   

He grumbled away, kicking clothes out of his path as he went back and forth to the kitchen, eventually clearing enough space for Jinyoung to sit down. He could only laugh softly in response, and with his knees pressed closely together and his hands clasped, he repeated a mantra in his mind.  

Don't be awkward. Don't be awkward. Don't be awkward.  

'I didn't catch your name, by the way?' Jinyoung shouted, and Jaebum popped his head back into the living room.  

'Sorry, I got distracted. Im Jaebum.'   

He was gone again before Jinyoung could say another word, so he just rolled the name around on his tongue. Im Jaebum. It suited the guy well, he thought. Im Jaebum, Im Jaebum...  

'Im Jaebum...'  

'Yeah?'  

Jinyoung jumped out of his skin at the sight of Jaebum standing beside his seat. He hadn't meant to actually say his name out loud, and his mind drew a blank in his shock.  

'Nice name.'  

Jaebum eyed him slowly before smirking in a way that sent a shiver up his spine. 'I've had weirder compliments, I guess.' To Jinyoung's dismay, he'd swapped his towel for a shirt and jeans. Either way he was still making Jinyoung's pulse race a little faster than usual. 'I'll fix you a drink while you wait, what's your poison? We've got cheap wine, cheaper wine, and slightly more expensive wine that still tastes like cheap wine.'  

Jinyoung laughed softly before gritting his teeth. 'I don't really drink.'  

Jaebum stopped in his steps, turning away from the kitchen with an expression of pure astonishment. 'What-' he started, before squinting suspiciously. 'How old are you?'  

'Twenty-one.'  

For some reason, Jaebum looked relieved by the revelation. 'And you're not taking advantage of being legal?'  

Fidgeting, Jinyoung's eyes darted around the room in his discomfort. 'Yeah, I had a bad experience the first time-'  

'Ah, of course. Mark told me.'  

'I'll kill him.' He deadpanned, and though Jaebum laughed as if it was a joke, he was deadly serious. Mark was getting his ass beat tonight.  

'He was covered in sick when he got home, the house smelled even worse than usual for a while. The scent just clinged to the air, your bile is really potent stuff.' He smirked, obviously taking pleasure from the uncomfortable grimace on Jinyoung's face. 'He said you were a cute drunk, though.'   

'Well that makes up for everything.'  

'It won't be like that this time,' Jaebum leaned against the wall with a comforting smile, his teasing tone subsiding in place of something softer. 'I'll look after you.' He winked, and Jinyoung scoffed, even if it made his stomach flip in a somewhat pleasant way.  

'Thanks, but I think even the smell will make me vomit now.'  

'I'll make you something, you won't even know it's alcohol. Hang on a second.' Jaebum disappeared into the kitchen with confidence, and Jinyoung wondered in what way he'd humiliate himself this time. He was gone for a while, and Jinyoung tensed in anticipation when he returned, placing a large bowl of pink fluid on the table before him with pride.  

'What on Earth is that?' It smelt like sugar, but Jinyoung was still suspicious.   

Jaebum took a seat in the armchair beside him, and being as it was the only surface not covered in stains, Jinyoung assumed he'd made it clear that the seat belonged to him. 'It's a cocktail – don't worry, it's not all for you. Wine, cranberry juice, pineapple juice, some unlabelled bottles I found in Bambam's special drawer – smells good, tastes good, you won't even know you're drinking alcohol.' He passed Jinyoung a glass, but paused before Jinyoung could reach it. 'With that in mind, take it slow or you'll be wrecked in half an hour.'  

He snatched the glass with a small smirk, and it didn't go unnoticed that Jaebum was watching him intently when he drew his first fill. He glanced at Jaebum, seeing him perched eagerly at the edge of his seat before he took a tentative sip.   

'Damn,'  

'Is it good?'  

'It tastes like juice.' He polished off the whole glass, going in for a refill. Jaebum looked like he was really trying hard to hide how proud he was and failing to his own annoyance. He made his own drink, but by the time he'd taken a sip, Jinyoung was already going in for his third glass.   

'Woah, woah – slow down. It tastes like juice but it'll hit you hard if you drink too much too fast.'  

'I can handle it.' Jinyoung smirked, and Jaebum seemed to enjoy his confidence, drinking the rest of his glass slowly enough that Jinyoung couldn't help but watch his Adams apple bob. It was surprising, really, how quiet Jinyoung's mind was for once. He felt at ease even if his heart was thumping a little faster, in fact he felt bold.  

'So, what brought you to the UK? Are you a student?'  

'I was. I graduated last year and stuck around.'  

'Really? How old are you?'   

Jaebum scoffed and took a quick sip of his drink, a teasing smirk lingering on his lips even as he swiped them with his tongue. 'You're blunt.'  

'I didn't mean it like that-' Jinyoung held his hands up in defense of himself, laughter escaping him even in his denial.   

'I'm only 25-'  

'Good God, you're decrepit.'   

Jaebum raised his eyebrows in surprise, but Jinyoung could see he was enjoying the teasing. There was a challenge there, and Jinyoung felt giddy enough to accept it.  

'I'm in my prime, you cheeky shit.'  

'Can I call you Uncle?'   

Jaebum leaned in slightly and bit his lip, letting his teeth pull at the flesh slow enough for Jinyoung's eyes to follow the motion. 'If you're into that.'  

Now, Jinyoung had never actually flirted with anyone before, but he was pretty sure it was happening. Sure, there were a few occasions where a girl had leaned a little close or shoved a note onto his desk, but to have someone look at him the way Jaebum was looking at him was another experience entirely.  

He hadn't noticed when he'd angled his body towards the older man, when his elbow had come to rest on the arm of the sofa and their knees had ended up a bare few inches apart. The alcohol was making him loose and warm, and Jaebum's eyes were making him feel sick in the best possible way.  

The tone of his voice was so low that it was only natural he'd be leaning a little closer to hear him, but before he could indulge in the sound any longer, the moment was disturbed. A door opened upstairs and heavy feet came pounding down the stairs, Jaebum's expression changing entirely to one of tired irritation.  

A mop of brown hair appeared through the door, followed by a lanky guy in his pyjamas loping into the kitchen without even acknowledging the two others in the room.   

'Yah, Yugyeom, clean your shit up!' Jaebum yelled after him, and the giant turned to them in surprise, pulling out an earbud and grinning. His hair was a birds nest, and it was apparent he'd only just woken up even though it was past seven at night. Three mugs stuffed with candy wrappers and leftover food were clutched tentatively in his hands.  

'Ah, hyung, I didn't know anyone was home.' The voice didn't match the sheer size of the guy, and Jinyoung couldn't hide the intrigue on his face. He sounded like a kid, and his face was a sweet, innocent picture.   

'Is that my mug?'  

Yugyeom grinned even as he made to deny it, and Jaebum's jaw jutted out in annoyance. Jinyoung didn't really know what to do since it didn't look like there'd be any introductions, and the comfortable banter between the two housemates felt strange to interrupt.  

He thought a brawl would break out just by the expression on Jaebum's face, but the older man took a deep breath as if he was sucking his anger back inside himself before giving Yugyeom the up and down. 'You've only just woken up?'  

'Yeah, Youngjae gave me some Red Bull last night while we were playing Fifa and I couldn't sleep until midday.'  

'Well, get ready, we're going out soon.' Yugyeom bopped his head in acquiescence and made to shuffle away but Jaebum's voice rumbled ominously once again. 'Are you forgetting something?'  

Jinyoung couldn't help eyeing Jaebum's face as he played around with Yugyeom, the command in his voice and the assertion in his manner. He seemed like someone who was used to being listened to and taken seriously, and Jinyoung was itching to test his patience.  

It seemed Yugyeom felt that way too. He trudged over to the table and picked up a single glass, adding it to his collection of mugs. Slipping his earplugs back in he casually waltzed back to the kitchen, oblivious to Jaebum's irritated gaze.  

The older man leaned over the back of the sofa, shouting after the source of his frustration. 'Yah! I know all of this mess is yours!'   

Yugyeom ignored him completely, singing at the top of his lungs. Jinyoung watched with utter disgust as he poured a ridiculous amount of cereal into a pan, using orange juice instead of milk and grabbing a ladle as a spoon. He danced slowly, shoveling a mouthful and not breaking eye contact with Jaebum .   

What else could Jinyoung do but crack up at the absurd tension in the room? Jaebum raised an eyebrow at him as if to ask what was so funny. 'He's only doing this because you're a guest.'  

Yugyeom came and dropped down beside Jinyoung, finally acknowledging he was even there. 'Ah, I recognise you.' He spluttered through a mouthful of cereal, and Jinyoung wiped at a crumb stuck to the guys cheek on instinct.  

'Really?'  

'Yeah, Hyung was looking you up on faceb-'  

'Yah.'  

Jinyoung quirked an eyebrow, and Yugyeom leaned in with his hand hiding his lips as if sharing a secret while Jaebum stared hard enough to burn. 'He's shy.'  

Jaebum launched out of his seat and Yugyeom was already on the other side of the room, dodging Jaebum's attempts at grabbing him with gleeful cackles until they finally brawled at Jinyoung's feet. Dishes fell, glasses clinked and Jinyoung couldn't do anything but watch with sadistic joy.   

Yugyeom finally broke free, his breakfast still somehow intact, and he danced to the door with a grin. 'Nice to meet you, by the way.'  

Jinyoung nodded in return, sad to see the guy disappear. Jaebum leant against the sofa at Jinyoung's feet, out of breath and grumbling. 'You shouldn't laugh, it just encourages him.'  

'You're his hyung? He's huge.'  

The older man rolled his eyes and began to repair the damage to the already destroyed living room. 'He knows he's huge and takes advantage just because he knows I can't always beat his ass. He's eighteen.'  

Jinyoung suddenly felt old, but Yugyeom's baby face made sense now at least. 'I think he's adorable.'  

'He's a pain in my ass, they all are.'   

Jaebum continued crawling around the floor, and despite his longing to simply watch him on his knees, Jinyoung knew it was only respectful to give him a hand. Standing up was definitely an experience. He'd forgotten about his three cocktails in the whirlwind excitement Yugyeom had brought with him, and his legs turned to jelly the moment he tried to use them.   

It was best to stay sitting down and appreciate the view. He snickered to himself with a tipsy grin, and his ears turned red when he realised Jaebum had caught he whole scene. Pausing on his hands and knees and watching Jinyoung slowly, there was no doubt he knew exactly how Jinyoung was feeling.  

'I told you not to drink so fast.'  

Jinyoung was never the kind of person to lose a game without a fight. Using every ounce of soberness left within him, he calmly poured another glass with a steady hand and determination in his eyes, taking a sip and changing the topic.   

'It's quiet. I thought you lived with quite a few guys?'  

There was a pause as Jaebum made an obvious show of knowing Jinyoung was trying to look more put together than he really was, but he eventually gave in to his deflection. 'It's always quieter when Jackson's not here. Youngjae's probably playing video games, and Bambam takes a whole day to get dressed if we're going clubbing.'  

Jinyoung rearranged himself in his seat, his mind ticking over how to look more sober. It didn't help that Jaebum was side-eyeing him every time he took a breath. 'I never see that Bambam kid at University.'  

'He changed courses, but he was here the whole time he was doing Illustration anyway. He does fashion now.' Jaebum rolled his eyes, carrying the last of the glasses and bowls into the kitchen and grabbing a pack of bin liners before getting on his knees once again. Jinyoung felt like he'd had a full meal just from the sight laid out before him.  

The older mans attention was solely focused on scrubbing a suspicious stain from the carpet, so Jinyoung's wandering eyes went unchecked. 'Why did he change?'  

'He says there's more girls there, for some reason he thinks acting like a gay best friend will get him laid. Kid makes a big fuss out of being a ladies man but we all know he's never kissed anyone but his mother. And Jackson when we did dares.'  

Jinyoung tucked his knees beneath himself on the sofa, taking another long sip from his drink. It only got more and more delicious with every taste, and his arms felt numb and heavy. There was a strange warmth pooling in his lower body, just beneath his stomach and at the top of his thighs, and no amount of fidgeting would diffuse the sensation.  

'What makes you so sure?' He practically hummed, leaning his head on his shoulder and holding his drink loosely between two fingers. Jaebum's attention was once again turned on him, the older man seeming to give up on the cleaning in favor of slumping in his arm chair and watching Jinyoung like he was some sort of spectacle. 'Maybe he's a player. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover.'  

'Oh?' Jaebum leaned forward in his chair, eyes dancing with mirth. 'Then, what about you?'  

'What do you mean?'  

He had to lean a little closer just to hear him speak, their knees brushing once again. 'You said I shouldn't judge based on what I can see. So, what are you hiding beneath this façade of innocence?'   

Jinyoung stifled a laugh, but Jaebum seemed to truly expect a response, his eyes demanding that Jinyoung played the game. 'I'm an exception.'  

'I don't believe that.'  

'I'm just a humble artist who can't hold his liquor, honestly.'  

He expected Jaebum to tease or at least laugh, but his gaze only grew more intense. 'I think you're an onion.'  

A moment of silence passed while Jinyoung processed the statement delivered so cooly from Jaebum's impassive lips. The weirdest part was that Jinyoung was almost entirely sure the older man was trying to flirt. 'An onion? I stink and make you cry uncontrollably? You know how to flatter a guy, marry me.'  

Jaebum allowed a small smirk at Jinyoung's blatant incredulity, but the sultry look in his eyes remained. 'I mean you have layers, like an onion. I wouldn't mind peeling them off to see what's underneath.'  

There was no way Jinyoung could pretend it wasn't hilarious. An ungraceful snort erupted from him and he sank back into the sofa, unable to do anything but laugh at Jaebum's utter sincerity. 'That really sounds like a sexual innuendo, and a bad one at that.'  

As he tried to collect himself, small snickers still escaping him, Jaebum stayed silent. He busied himself for a moment, refilling his glass before once again meeting Jinyoung's eyes.  

'Maybe it was.'  

The older man took a long sip of his drink, keeping his eyes on Jinyoung as if he could pin him in place with just a glance. The heat in Jinyoung's lower body only grew more unbearable, and he was sure Jaebum was pressing their knees together on purpose, the pressure growing by the second.   

It was amazing how many thoughts Jinyoung could think in a single moment. Never before had he been flirted with by a member of his own sex, and he damn well never thought it would happen with a Korean guy. Of course he'd felt the vibes before Yugyeom had interrupted, but there was still a sense of playfulness there in contrast to the searing gaze upon him now.  

Maybe Jaebum was like him, suffocated back home and taking advantage of his freedom. Even still, Jinyoung didn't trust it. To foolishly give in only to find it had all been a game was too frightening to even consider, and though there was no one around to see, the fear of being caught still gripped him.  

Setting his fears aside, his body did what it wanted to do. Whether he trusted Jaebum's intentions or not, the attention still set him on fire, and he could only gawp like a fish under his heavy gaze. 

The moment was broken by the sound of the door being unlocked, the unmistakable rumble of Jackson's voice as he bustled through the house. In the blink of an eye Jaebum's knee was no longer pressed to his own, the older man sitting back in his armchair, tense and looking anywhere but at Jinyoung.  

There was no time to really take in the sudden change of attitude from the older man, his attention suddenly swallowed up by a muscle bound blonde who was far too eager to see him. 'Yo, Jinyoung! Long time no see!'  

'I saw you at Uni yesterday, Jacks.' Strong arms wrapped him in a tight hug for a beat too long, pulling away to clutch him by his biceps and stare into his eyes with heartfelt passion.  

'Every moment without you is a moment too long.'  

'...Thanks, Jackson, I appreciate it.'  

'Leave him alone.' Mark sighed, carefully placing some bags on the table with a series of clinks and nodding to Jinyoung in greeting before turning away to talk with Jaebum quietly. Jackson's fingers dug into Jinyoung's arms even harder. 

'Mark said you were feeling down lately and I just want you to know that I'll always be here for you-' 

'That's lovely, Jackson, but I can't feel my arms. Come and sit down.'  

'Ah.' Jackson did as he was told, and Jinyoung rubbed at his sore arms. Jackson was an enigma. Even though Jinyoung had barely known him a week, the guy had already gone out of his way to drag him into a friendship he didn't know if he could quite contribute enough to. Whenever Jinyoung ventured outside, Jackson just happened to bump into him. 

It was creepy, but at the same time it warmed him and he couldn’t help but feel a searing affection for the guy already. Firm words and clear boundaries seemed to work so far, because Jackson really was just like a puppy, eager for love and attention but wholly dedicated to the feelings of others. 

Mark was moving here and there, emptying the bags and placing various bottles and cans of beer on the table. Jinyoung moved up to make space for him, nudging Jackson along and clutching Mark's hand like an anchor as soon as he sat down.  

He didn't make anything of the sudden contact, only squeezing his hand in return as he adressed Jaebum. 'Cocktails on the go already?' He filled a glass, but then his eyes caught the drink Jinyoung had balanced between his thighs.  

His thick eyebrows immediately shot up, and he scanned Jinyoung's face suspiciously. 'So, you're drinking tonight, huh?' 

Jinyoung immediately pointed at Jaebum in accusation, unashamed to be a tattle tale. Besides, getting other people into trouble brought him a sick sort of pleasure. 'Jaebum insisted he'd take care of me.' 

'Insisted?' Mark's pointed gaze fell upon the older man, who seemed to retreat even further into his armchair. 'Did he now?' 

'No, no, no-' 

'Be careful, Jinyoung. He's trying to get you drunk so he can swoop in at the end of the night and take advantage of you.' Jackson warned him as if it was the gospel truth, clutching at his forearm while Jaebum rolled his eyes. 

'Don't say gross things.' Jaebum sounded different when he spoke English, less confident in his words yet still commanding of attention.

'You always do it.' Jackson retorted, and though it was clear that he was teasing, Jaebum's face darkened. 

'Don't make things up. And besides that, I bring girls home, so don't be disgusting.' 

It stung, but Jinyoung had no right to feel hurt about it. It wasn't Jaebum's fault he'd taken his friendliness as flirting, and he'd even warned himself not to fall for it. Either way the slight cut him enough that his tongue was already burning to make him suffer. 

'I'm disgusting, am I? Is that why you called me an onion? Do I smell?' His tone was sarcastic, but his eyes were bitter, and Jaebum rushed to defend himself. Jackson's outburst of high pitched laughter obscured whatever he was trying to say, though. 

'Onion? What the fuck is that about?' 

Jaebum's jaw jutted out in the same way it had when Yugyeom was taunting him, and he let out a yell, leaning forward to fill his drink once again. 'It's out of context. Anyway, shut up and lets drink. Where's the cards?' 

'Cards?' Jinyoung frowned, flashbacks of his first night of drinking rolling back to him. 

The flirtatious spark returned to Jaebum's eyes, as well as a smirk filled with sadistic intent. 'Yes, Jinyoungie,' He almost purred, and Jinyoung was once again thrown for a loop on what to make of this guy. He was unreadable. 'Let's see who's laughing after a few rounds of drinking games.' 

If it wasn't for the fact Jackson was actually being quiet for a moment, nobody would have heard Mark's quiet voice.

'Probably still us.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yugyeom is savage and jinyoung is gonna get rekd, anticipate it! (chapters will be faster now because I've finished my second year of uni and i can tear my keyboard UP yas!)


	4. Cramps

Jaebum managed to escape their teasing before Jinyoung could really sink his teeth in, the older man jogging up the stairs to take his frustration out on his housemates bedroom doors and call them down for drinks. In his absence, it didn't escape Jinyoung's notice that Mark's eyes were lingering on the glass clutched tightly in his hand.

'I can hear you thinking. If you have something to say, just say it.' 

Mark reclined, eyeing Jinyoung with suspicion. 'What's put you in such a bad mood?' 

There was no need to respond, as the source of his ill temper returned before he could give an answer. Jaebum knelt at the coffee table with a deck of cards and began dealing, and Mark followed Jinyoung's unintentional glare. Sometime's Jinyoung swore he could feel Mark's eyes when he was trying to figure something out about him, like a cool tingling down his spine. Sure enough, when he glanced back at him those brown eyes were drilling him with unasked questions, to which he could only sigh. 'We'll talk about it later.'

He noticed Jackson watching them from the corner of his eye, but when he looked at the blonde he dodged the sudden attention, slipping off the sofa to kneel beside Jaebum. A hand crept over to the pile of cards Jaebum was sorting before it was slapped away roughly, though the older man didn't so much as glance at the culprit.

'Don't cheat.'

Jackson pulled a face of deep hurt, holding his hand as if it was a grave injury. 'I was just going to help, you're so violent!'

His whining went ignored, Jaebum continuing to shuffle the cards before passing them out amongst them. When he held a pile out for Jinyoung, their fingers brushed and Jinyoung met those charcoal eyes with timid anticipation. The moment was swift, Jaebum snatching his hand away when Yugyeom came bounding in and Jinyoung was left confused all over again.

Whatever his problem was, Jinyoung was already bored of it. At least, that was what he was telling himself; the twinge in his stomach and the urge to check if Jaebum was looking at him told a different story. 

Yugyeom was a different guy to the one who'd stumbled into the room earlier, bedraggled and scruffy. He was dressed casual but suave, and he dived for the beers as soon as he caught sight of them, moving to crack one open with his front teeth. 

'Yah, you'll break your teeth doing that.' Jinyoung grumbled, but Yugyeom looked at him with innocent eyes.

'I always open it this way.'

Jinyoung's disapproval must have been palpable though, because the teen opened it with his fingers glumly instead. A short chuckle sounded from across the coffee table, and Jinyoung raised an eyebrow at Jaebum. 'What's funny?'

'He never does what he's told.' He smirked, and Jinyoung didn't know which of them he was teasing. 'You've tamed the demon already.'

Yugyeom groaned when Jaebum ruffled his hair, but Jinyoung hadn't finished nagging yet. 'Aren't you too young to drink?' He folded his arms, trying to come across as a responsible adult even if his words were slurring together against his will. Yugyeom just beamed, raising his beer cheerfully.

'The drinking age is eighteen here.' He chugged half the can, belching shamelessly, and Jinyoung smacked his shoulder without a second thought. He could see why Jaebum scruffed the kids hair up when he teased him, because the second Yugyeom apologised, Jinyoung did the same. From what he'd seen, Yugyeom was a kitten that needed training, while Jackson was a puppy beyond domestication.

Youngjae was the next to come tumbling down the stairs, greeting Jinyoung with palpable joy and a wide grin on his handsome face. He knelt by the coffee table, pouring himself a coke without even glancing at the alcohol.

'You're not drinking?' Jinyoung asked in surprise, and Youngjae laughed.

'I just fall asleep if I drink.'

Mark nodded, quietly agreeing with Youngjae's statement. 'Alcohol usually picks you up before it takes you down. Youngjae's always up so the alcohol doesn't know what to do with him and he's asleep within half an hour.'

'I'm in charge of getting everyone home safe.' He grinned with pride, and Jaebum clicked his tongue in disagreement.

'If you had a sense of direction.'

Jackson took it as his chance to join in, leaning over the coffee table to catch Jinyoung's attention. 'Last time he led us five miles out to Totterdown in the pouring rain.'

'I used Google maps!'

Mark sighed. 'And typed in the wrong adress.'

Youngjae's smile never faltered, and he just laughed heartily before raising his glass with nonchalance. 'Nobody's perfect.'

The living room was noticibly louder with the two new additions. Yugyeom wasn't exceptionally loud, really, but Youngjae would cackle obnoxiously at anything Jackson said. At first Jinyoung had wondered if he was missing a joke, because none of the other guys really seemed that entertained, but the truth was revealed soon enough. The one time Youngjae didn't react, Jackson got up and tickled a strangled laugh out of him. Youngjae was basically his giggle bitch, which was amazing to witness.

Jaebum was drinking at a steady pace, tapping his fingers on his glass as if he was waiting for something. It was an effort to keep his eyes away from the older man, because he was so, so sure he was staring at him. He wasn't going to fall for the trick. Jinyoung didn't play games, even if his heart was thudding like a drum whenever their eyes nearly met.

Eventually heavy feet came pounding down the stairs, and Jinyoung was surprised to see Bambam emerge. How was someone so stick thin capable of sounding so heavy? Besides that, he looked like he was about to walk down a Paris catwalk rather than climb a muddy hill and navigate a dark, sticky dancefloor.

'What the fuck! I bought the drinks, why did you start without me?' The thin guy exclaimed the second he caught sight of the group gathered there, waving at Jinyoung when he noticed him staring before he threw himself down stroppily beside Jaebum on the floor. 

'We bought some snacks with your cash, too.' Mark supplied, ignoring his complaints. 

'Good idea. Where are they?'

'We ate them on the way back.'

'What the hell, man?'

Yugyeom shoved his shoulder playfully, grinning. 'You never pay for anything.'

Jaebum let out a long breath, tilting his head with a sly smirk. 'That's how the rich stay rich.'

'I'm not rich.' Bambam groaned, crossing his legs and pouring himself a cocktail. 'You're all just poor.'

Youngjae slapped him on the arm suddenly, as if he'd just thought of something important. 'Where's those girls you said you were gonna bring? From your course?'

'What girls?'

Jackson rolled his eyes, dismissing him with a tired expression. 'Watch him backtrack, he always makes stuff up.'

'Oh! _Those_ girls.' Jackson mimicked him, drawing a laugh from Youngjae's lips, but Bambam wasn't dissuaded. 'They'll meet us at the club later. They're all predrinking together and doing girl stuff.' He leaned in with a raised eyebrow. 'Y'know. Kissing eachother and having pillow fights.'

Jinyoung stared at the kid blankly, not noticing Jaebum doing exactly the same. 'Are you twelve?'

Bambam recoiled from the verbal attack pathetically, clutching his chest. 'Let me have my fantasies!'

'Yeah, come on guys, his fantasies are all he's got.' 

A cheer rang out from Jackson and Jaebum as Youngjae cackled, the three of them mussing Yugyeom's hair with pride at his sass. Bambam could only splutter with indignation, pointing accusingly at them all in turn.

'Why do you never pick on Yugyeom?'

'Because Yugyeom's got game.' Jackson stated with enthusiasm, pounding the coffee table to emphasise his point. Bambam's face was a picture of devestation and betrayal, and Jinyoung kicked his legs up over Mark's lap, giggly and warm in the arms of intoxication. Yugyeom puffed out his chest with pride, getting a shove from Bambam in return.

Even though he only knew Jackson and Mark, the comfortable atmosphere was thick enough that Jinyoung felt like he lived there too. His earlier drinks had settled into his blood stream nicely, warming his limbs and turning him to a fuzzy, sloppy mess as he sprawled out on the sofa. The usual nagging voice inside his head was muffled and distant, and he decided to play Jaebum at his own game, watching him steadily without shame,

He looked good when he laughed; softer and sillier, his hard edges turning to something more innocent. Jinyoung had lost track of the conversation, drawn to the way Jaebum's mouth looked when his teeth were showing and the way his eyes turned to slits of black. Though he was laughing, it didn't seem like he was truly taking part. There was something he was holding back, and Jinyoung wondered where the flirty, confident man from before had disappeared to.

When he'd opened the door, Jinyoung had been interested. Now he was intrigued.

The lips he'd been so engrossed in watching finally parted with words, eyes opening wide and filling with something dangerous as they caught Jinyoung off guard. He called for silence, tapping the table until all eyes were on him.

'Ok, let the games begin.'

The first round involved pain for some reason. Somehow Jinyoung managed to miss all of the penalties, and Mark was impossible to catch out. Jackson was a black hole, though it was apparent he was catching himself out on purpose to provide some entertainment. Of course, his reactions were over the top, and the kids would all roll around with laughter at his melodramatic outbursts. 

Youngjae's pupils would tremble whenever it was his turn to be flicked or spanked or whatever cruel humilation was in store for him next, becoming such a black hole that he was eventually excluded from the games out of pity. He wasn't getting any drunker anyway, belching every five seconds from the sheer amount of cola he'd been chugging and falling victim to Jinyoung's disgusted side-eye. 

The main event was Jaebum's fall from grace, the whole room erupting with joy when given the chance to inflict pain upon the poor guy. Jinyoung was the first out of his seat, clambering over the coffee table and holding Jaebum's head steady with sadistic glee. He straddled his lap without a second thought, taking sick pleasure in the pure surprise, confusion and fear rolling off the older man in waves. The sound of his finger hitting his forehead was far too satisfying, and it was almost a shame that the suspense hadn't lasted longer.

'You took way too much pleasure from that.' Jaebum winced, rubbing at the rapidly reddening spot with a hiss while Jinyoung sauntered back to his seat feeling fulfilled and sated. 

The penalties were changed up after that, a fear of Jinyoung's punishment prowess making everyone sit a little straighter. A round passed where the penalty was taking a shot of vodka, and Mark gave him _the look._ He pretended not to notice, reaching in to take his turn before Jackson physically restrained him. He didn't know what all the fuss was about, because honestly he felt fine. The room might have been spinning a little more than usual, and maybe he was getting slghtly too overzealous with skinship, but he felt _fine._

'Okay, ring of fire.' Jaebum announced, cracking his knuckles as he stood and clambered back into his armchair. Jinyoung must have fallen asleep for a moment, because he couldn't remember when the seats had been pushed closer to the coffee table, or when Jackson had rejoined him and Mark on the sofa. 

On top of that, a suspicious glass of murky liquid now sat in the centre of the table. The cocktail bowl was empty, almost all of the beer cans were strewn across the floor, and Jaebum actually looked _drunk_. Jinyoung really had given up on hiding his stares, unabashedly taking in the sight of him sprawled loose and languid in his seat. He reminded him of a cat after a saucer of cream, content and decadent, watching over the rest of them without much care.

'How many games are we going to play?' Jinyoung moaned, scrunching up his face in disdain. 'I wanna go outside.'

'It's only nine, Jinyoung.' Mark chuckled, though Jinyoung wasn't sure what the joke was. 'We'll leave at half ten.'

He flopped over the arm of the sofa with a dramatic sigh, loose limbs flopping around in his frustration. 'I'm gonna fall asleep.'

'I told you not to drink so fast.' Jaebum snickered, leaning in a little towards Jinyoung's upside-down face. He just mimicked him childishly in return, returning to an upright position with some difficulty, and getting to his feet was a saga. He very nearly fell through the coffee table, and a round of applause resounded when he caught his balance at the next moment.

'M'gonna go outside, just skip my turn.'

Mark was calling after him as he stumbled out of the room, but his ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton wool, everything seeming muffled and distant. It wasn't that he felt sick, but he couldn't focus on anything but the heat in his stomach. He'd completely lost track of everything the guys were talking about, and his mouth felt barren and sickly sweet. 

Not to mention, nobody had ever told him just how damn _horny_ alcohol made you feel. He hadn't really grasped what was happening at first, back when it was just him and Jaebum, but it was a growing issue now. Watching Jaebum throw back his drinks, the way his throat flexed and his tongue darted out to catch stray drops from his lips... it was torture.

It took him a good while to get his hands to co-operate with him when he tried to open the door, flailing around with the lock until it swung open on its own. The cool, damp air hit him hard, filling his lungs immediately and making him feel like a person again. He stepped out, letting the rain wet his skin as he stumbled over to the wall and made an attempt at sitting down.

A burst of laughter almost gave him a heart attack while he was still trying to figure out how he'd ended up on the floor, and he willed his mind to stop spinning enough to focus on the figure in the doorway.

'You're such a lightweight.'

Through his blurry eyes from his position flat out on the ground, he truly mistook the figure standing in the doorway, backlit by golden light, to be a God. When his brain caught up to the world, the God was revealed to be the demon who'd been teasing his dick the whole night.

'What does that even _mean_?' He made an attempt at righting himself, and even through the fog of intoxication he knew how pitiful he must have looked. Jaebum was walking tortorously slow towards him, taking in the scene of his struggle with far too much pleasure for Jinyoung's taste. Whatever, he didn't need his help anyway.

He thought, until his legs gave out once again and he was saved from a concussion by Jaebum's quick reflexes, the older man easing him down onto the wall with a suprising amount of care.

'You want me to tell Mark to take you home?'

'I'm fine.' He was too close, their thighs pressed together and Jaebum's hand sneaking its way across his back, comforting and firm.

'You're not gonna be sick, right? I'll pay for a taxi, I got you into this mess after all.'

Was this guy bipolar? Split personality or something? One moment he was cold and chic and detached, the next he was practically carrying Jinyoung over the freshold. 'I just need some air.'

'Well tell me if you need to puke. I'll get my camera ready.' There he was again, the asshole himself. Jinyoung just stared at the concrete beneath his feet, willing the world to stop moving so fast. The sound of shuffling began beside him as Jaebum fidgeted, and when Jinyoung felt brave enough to look at the older man, he was surprised to see a cigarette between his lips and an orange glow illuminating his sharp features.

'You smoke?'

Jaebum took a deep breath, pulling his cigarette away before blowing out a long plume of smoke. Jinyoung must have sounded more disdainful than he'd seemed in his own head, because the older man raised an eyebrow and watched him for a moment before replying.

'Do you want one?'

Scoffing, Jinyoung turned his face up in disgust. 'No, it's gross.'

The older man offered his cigarette nonetheless, and though Jinyoung resisted at first, his curiosity got the better of him. He coughed up half a lung before he'd even taken a real drag, and Jaebum patted him on the back hard even as he snickered. When he'd finally blinked the tears from his eyes, it was a surprise to see Jaebum watching him so tenderly, his hand still lingering on the small of his back and scalding him through his shirt.

'You're cute.'

It was more of a whisper than anything else, an admission to himself. He took another long drag, and Jinyoung wondered why it was so mesmerising to watch. 

'Don't patronise me.' Jinyoung muttered, raising an eyebrow when a bubbling laugh spilled forth from Jaebum's smiling lips as he bumped his shoulder bodily. Dark eyes were upon him, squinted with mirth, and God, they set Jinyoung ablaze.

'You're so sensitive.'

'What makes you think that?'

'It's so easy to rile you up.'

This boy. At what point would he stop making Jinyoung flip between longing to tear his shirt apart and wanting to rip his head off and kick it around like a football?

'Why are you so intent on annoying me? Do you have nothing better to do?' The heat of Jaebum's arm against his own just made him even more tense, and though the temption to lean into his warmth was strong, he just couldn't trust the boy enough to relax.

'Well, you look cute when you're annoyed.' Jaebum breathed, leaning just a touch too close for Jinyoung's nerves. 'I'll stop teasing when you stop reacting.'

Jinyoung could only stare at the older man blankly, trying hard not to follow the motion of Jaebum's teeth dragging over his lower lip as he smirked at him. In the end he could only roll his eyes, staring resolutely at the house and willing his heart to calm within his trembling chest. At the very least he could safely say he'd sobered up in the short time they'd been sitting together, because he was suddenly aware of how cold it was. In fact, he had no idea why Jaebum hadn't just stayed on the porch to smoke rather than sitting with him and getting damper with every second that passed.

Jaebum's voice was softer, more tentative when he finally spoke again, but Jinyoung didn't dare meet his devilish gaze again for fear of being tricked. 'The kids seem to like you.'

'Yeah, they're cute.'

'You don't know them yet.' Jaebum chuckled, 'They drive me crazy.' He shifted, placing his palm behind and to the side of Jinyoung on the wall, casual yet intimate. Jinyoung watched him take another drag, watched those slender, gracious fingers folding around his cigarette. The older man made a move as if to speak before he hesitated for a second, eyes flickering over Jinyoung's face and revealing a somewhat vulnerable expression that Jinyoung had yet to witness.

'What Yugyeom said earlier, about facebook... I wasn't looking you up. I mean, I was, but not in that way.' What was he even talking about? Jinyoung could barely remember a thing Yugyeom had said the whole night, but he wasn't about to stop Jaebum from rambling. 'Mark told me you'd be coming over and that you're a good artist, so I took a look. You're pretty talented.'

Jinyoung wanted to refute the compliment, but the way it rolled from Jaebum's lips without a hint of dishonesty made him allow it just this once. Of course, he regretted it. 'If you ever need a nude model, hit me up.'

'I'll pass.'

'Seriously, though, I'm thinking of getting a tattoo soon. I like your style, and I'll pay for you to design me something.'

Jinyoung was honestly taken aback for a moment, laughing in Jaebum's face with incredulity before he realised the older man wasn't joking. 'I've never sold my art before, I'll have to think about it.' Somehow he felt dishonest even considering charging someone for his scrawlings, unable to fight the discomfort and disbelief swirling in his gut. 'Just ask Mark or Jackson for my number and we can discuss it.'

'Over the phone? How intimate.' Jaebum winked, throwing his dead cigarette away as he stood abruptly and strode to the door. He turned to Jinyoung almost as an afterthought, looking him up and down in a way that made his thighs burn all over again. 'Come inside, anyway, it's freezing. Besides, we still have to play truth or dare, and there's so many more ways I can irritate you.'

With a sly smile on his lips, he disappeared into the warm glow of the house, and Jinyoung shivered at the loss.

-

'Truth.'

'Did you or did you not shave all of your pubic hair in _my_ shower and block the pipes last week?' 

Jinyoung couldn't hold in his surprised laughter when he returned to his seat, covering his mouth to disguise the sound amidst the unsettlingly serious atmosphere. Mark was pointing at Jackson with fire in his eyes as the younger man slowly took a drink, his guilt evident even if he didn't answer.

Jackson sipped his drink thoughtfully before he cleared his throat. 'People always walk in when I use the main bathroom and I needed some peace and quiet to landscape.' Mark threw his head back in exhasperation, and Jackson slammed his hand on the table. 'Okay! Moving on! Yugyeomie, truth or dare?'

'Dare!'

There was a five minute wait while Jackson consulted with Youngjae and Mark as to what they should make the kid suffer through, and though Yugyeom had been bright and eager to attempt a dare, when his fate was revealed his wasn't the only smile that faltered.

'Give Bambam his first kiss.' Jackson ordered calmly before he bunched his hands up beneath his sweatshirt and screeched with joy. Bambam jumped to his feet, and Yugyeom dropped his head hard against the glass of the coffee table in defeat.

'Why am I getting dragged into his dare?' Bambam spluttered, and it took another moment before he caught on to the real insult. 'And who said this would be my first kiss?'

Youngjae and Jackson shared a look before they stood with dangerous eyes, stalking over to the two younger boys. Bambam had no time to escape before he was restrained and dragged to the ground, though Yugyeom didn't need any manhandling, clutching Bambam by the shoulders with determination.

'We've done it before, lets just get it over with.' Yugyeom begged, and the room paused. There was a long silence as they all traded glances, unsure of how to follow up such a revelation. Jackson and Youngjae returned to their seats, and the two younger boys braced for what was to come.

Jackson steepled his fingers before him, voice serious. 'Please elaborate.' 

Bambam didn't seem to know where to look as Yugyeom fidgeted self consciously beside him, regretting his slip of tongue. Even still, a shy smile lingered on the gentle giants lips, and Jinyoung's hawkish eyes didn't miss it. He could see Bambam mustering up the strength to answer Jackson's demand, boldly raising his eyes to the intrigued stares focused upon him.

'We were drunk.'

'Were we?' Yugyeom rebuted, eyebrows raised before he once again regretted his lack of filter. 'It doesn't matter, can we count this as a truth and move on?'

Youngjae winced, nodding weakly. 'Yeah, this is getting weirdly personal.'

'FIne,' Jackson sighed, seeming honestly disappointed to have lost out on the display of skinship. 'Mark, truth or dare?'

While the two younger boys took a deep sigh of relief, the older boy looked startled, all eyes on him when Jinyoung knew that was what he hated the most. He swallowed thickly, leaning in to take a shot before he grinned like he wasn't frightened at all. 'This game is getting dangerous.' He laughed, easing the tension in the room with just his smile, but Jinyoung squeezed his thigh nonetheless. 'Truth, I guess.'

Jackson perked up immediately, getting to his knees and leaning across the coffee table with a suspicious amount of eagerness. 'If you were a girl, who out of all of us would you bang?'

'Why couldn't you have brought girls, Bambam?' Youngjae whined, and Mark shifted awkwardly in his seat. 'This is getting so weird.'

'I know you all too well, though.' Mark grimaced, 'I know how dirty you all are.'

Jaebum kicked his feet up on the armrest of his chair, folding his arms behind his head. 'Just answer the question and put Jackson out of his misery, please.'

The boy in question was waiting impatiently, elbows resting on the coffee table and his head cocked to the side as if there was nothing he wanted to hear more than Mark's response. Really, though, it was Mark's hesitation that confused Jinyoung the most. What was the problem? If he was straight, he wouldn't be admitting to anything - it was all in jest anyway. Jinyoung squeezed his thigh again to bring his distant eyes back to the room, and the older man shifted in discomfort.

'Don't take it so seriously,' Jinyoung bumped his shoulder, keeping his voice low, 'it's just a game.'

Mark's eyes were practically screaming at Jinyoung for help, but there was nothing he could do, and eventually Mark stuttered the words out. 'Uh, J...' He licked his lips, fiddling with his hands while his gaze was glued to the floor. 'Jinyoung, I guess.'

'Hey, why was that so hard to admit?' Jinyoung playfully punched his shoulder, 'I'm a solid ten.' Mark smiled at his teasing, though he was still tense and Jinyoung couldn't quite place why. It wasnt much of a revelation to him, kind of like picking which of your family members you hated the least. 

'Don't look so disappointed, Jackson.' Bambam taunted, and Jinyoung noticed the crestfallen expression on the guys face. He hid it just as quickly as it came, scowling and slandering the boy in return. Jinyoung's legs returned to their comfortable position slung over Mark's lap, and though he was still confused by the guys sudden awkwardness, he was too fuzzy in his inebriation to really implore. 

'But who would top and who would bottom?' Yugyeom asked bluntly, a wicked spark in his eyes at the oppurtunity to make the older boy squirm, and Jinyoung could see a darker side to the kid already. 

'Yah, you shouldn't know about things like that.' Jinyoung scolded, looking down on the younger boy sternly.

'I'm eighteen-'

'-So what?'

Yugyeom rolled his eyes, and Jinyoung took it as a defeat. Jaebum was watching with interest, speaking up lazily. 'It's an interesting question, though.' 

Jinyoung glanced at Mark with a raised eyebrow. 'It'd be up to Mark I guess,' He stated casually, and this time it was Jinyoung's turn to stir Jaebum up. 'I'm versatile.' 

The night rolled on slow and thick as treacle, revelations pouring out with every drink. Jackson somehow ended up in his underwear, Jaebum had attempted to flirt with the old lady next door to a disturbingly enthusiastic response and Yugyeom had been forced to drink his six month out of date orange juice he'd left to fester in the refrigerator. 

Before the games could come to a close, Youngjae admitted with red cheeks to having watched gay porn - 'only once'. Before the group even had time to laugh, Jackson's mouth was open. Despite the ensuing silence after his open question of  'who  _hasn't_ watched gay porn?' he continued his train of thought out loud, commenting on how easy the actors made it look and how sticky it was in reality.

'Jackson, we can hear you.' Jaebum coolly cut through his monologue, and Jackson took a moment to realise why everyone was so silent.

'Don't knock it until you've tried it, that's all I'm gonna say.' 

-

When they finally left the house, the smell of burning was in the air and Jinyoung stared up at the misty sky, listening to the crackling of fireworks coming from every direction yet unable to see even a glimmer through the smoke. Mark's arm looped through his own as they sloppily made their way up a steep hill, the dampness of the night quickly becoming clammy and uncomfortable, and their steps were shoddy and mismatched in their struggle to walk.

The other boys were slightly further back, bickering about something or other and tripping over their own feet, beers clinking as their plastic bags swung to and fro. 'So, what's the situation?'

'Huh?'

'I'm not blind, what's going on with you and JB?'

Jinyoung blinked at the taller man in confusion before his lazy mind caught up with what Mark was trying to convey. 'Oh. I'm not really sure myself, he's just a bit of an ass.'

'Hm.' Mark took a breath, going silent for a few moments, only the cacophony behind them to fill the lull in conversation. 'He's not the best at first impressions, you have to get to know him. I'll warn you though, there's something about him I don't trust.'

Mark was looking straight ahead, and his expression was one Jinyoung hadn't seen before, more pensive and distant than usual. 'Any chance you'll elaborate on that statement?' Jinyoung chuckled, thankful that Mark's seriousness twisted into a lighthearted smile.

'Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. He's just secretive and it rubs me the wrong way.'

'Well, you keep your cards close to your chest, too.' Jinyoung nudged him gently, but being tipsy made it more of a shove. 'When were you gonna tell me I was at the top of your bucket list? Or were you going to woo me with roses and a flavoured condom?' He watched Mark squirm with unprecedented joy, face crumpled with mirth at the sheer humilation radiating from the older man.

'You're never gonna let that go, are you?'

'Never.'

Jinyoung's lungs were close to jumping from his body when they finally reached the highest point of the hill, but the sight quite literally took his breath away. The sky was torn with reds and yellows flashing here and there, and the blinking lights of houses surrounded them on all sides, glimmering in his blurry eyes. The grass was wet when they sat, but he cared little. Mark seemed just as taken by the sight, and Jinyoung imagined he was planning a painting as his eyes gleamed and reflected the view.

An impressive amount of people were there, drinking from bottles in the rain, and Mark's thigh was warm against his own despite the November chill. Bambam was doing something annoying in the corner of his sight, standing at the edge of a steep incline, and a vision of Yugyeom running up behind him foretold something bad was going to happen. 

Jaebum dropped down at his side at the same moment the two younger boys collided, rolling down the hill with mangled screams. Jackson followed behind them, never one to be left out, and Mark laughed joyfully at his right, not even aware of Jaebum's presence. Jinyoung only had eyes for the creature beside him, his slender neck arched toward the sky as he leaned back on his outstretched arms before he rolled his head to the side, watching Jinyoung without shame. 

Of all the boys Jinyoung had sketched, rendered in charcoal and immortalised in oils, none could compare to Jaebum in that moment. Fireworks overhead cast him in shades of cerulean, his black eyes glossed in the flickering light and his damp hair catching every changing hue. Jinyoung was trapped by his gaze, entranced by the beauty before him and raptured by the sin within it. Those eyes raked over Jinyoung's face, his tongue running slowly over his lower lip, and Jinyoung was smitten.

A jab to his side made him turn to Mark's distracted laughter, his drunken mind easily absorbed by the sight of the other boys playing around, Youngjae running away from firecrackers as he laughed and cried at the same time while Yugyeom followed in hot pursuit. When he turned back to his preoccupation, Jaebum was gone, and Mark was in his ear asking where his mind had ran away to.

'It's nothing,' He answered distantly, wondering if the moment had even been real. 'I think I'm seeing things.'

Jackson came between them just as Mark's face clouded with worry, bright and loud. 'We're going to a club before we freeze to death, coming?'

'You don't have to come if you're not feeling it, I'll walk you home.' Mark leaned past Jackson, and if Jinyoung's intuition wasn't so foggy he would've seen the plea in Mark's words.

'I can barely feel it,' He beamed, and Jackson patted him roughly on the back with pride before standing. Jinyoung missed the misery in Mark's eyes. 'Let's go.'

-

'It makes sense.'

'How?'

'Gay bars are full of girls, and all of the guys are gay so we'll get all the attention!'

'Attention from who, Bam? You know they'll just assume we're gay, and I'm pretty sure they won't appreciate being hit on if they came here to get away from all of that.' Youngjae tried to explain while the others watched on, tired of trying to get it through Bambam's head that this wasn't the place to get laid by the fairer sex. 'Besides, you know most of the girls will be lesbians, right?'

Bambam just grinned with pride, waggling his eyebrows. 'Well, they haven't met me yet.'

Yugyeom sighed with a loving smile as he leaned against the brick wall, neon lights casting him in purple. 'Bambam, you're so trash.'

Jinyoung's heart might have been racing a little faster than usual as they stood in the queue for the club. He'd never been to a club, nevermind a gay one, and he could hear the music pounding to the rhythm of his pulse even from the outside. Mark had shifted a little further back in the queue to stand with Youngjae, and Jackson sidled up beside Jinyoung with a certain uneasiness.

Jinyoung watched as he leaned against the wall, shifting his weight from foot to foot and playing with the jewellery on his wrists and fingers before he finally spoke up. 'Can I ask you something weird?'

'When do you ever ask me anything normal?' Jinyoung chuckled, giving the blonde his full attention, intoxication making him far more patient as he waited for Jackson's lips to part once again.

'Is there something going on with you and Mark? You know, romantically?'

'Not as far as I know-'

'I mean, you're close, and he looks at you a lot. He's always talking about you and his face changes-'

'Jacks, there's nothing going on between us.' He placed his palms firmly on the shorter mans shoulders to stall his blabbering, coaxing him to meet his eyes. 'We're just friends.'

A small smile tugged at Jackson's lips, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He dropped his gaze for a moment before he broke out in laughter, throwing off the serious persona of only moments before. 'It's not like I like him or anything-'

Jinyoung ruffled his hair, gazing at him kindly but not without pity. 'You don't have to be dishonest with me, I keep secrets.'

Once again Jackson's attitude switched to something more akin to how Jinyoung felt he truly was, when all eyes were off him and he could relax. There was a promise in his eyes, a sigh of relief in his voice. 'I'll bear that in mind.'

They talked for a while before Jackson slipped away to talk with Jaebum, and Mark returned to his side. He could hear the older boy speaking, but his eyes were on Jaebum once again. His adamant refusal of being into guys still resounded in Jinyoung's head, and he couldn't piece together the different versions of the man he'd seen throughout the night. He didn't seem too fussed to be waiting in line for a gay bar, in fact he hadn't said a single word to deterr them when Bambam had suggested it. Jinyoung was annoyed at his own need to figure the guy out, annoyed at how intrigued he was when he'd only just met him.

'You're not listening to me, are you?'

Mark's voice cut through his inner monologue as he blinked dumbly up at the taller boy, apologising half-heartedly.

'It's weird seeing you drunk. You're easily distracted.'

Jinyoung quirked an eyebrow, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall. 'And you're a lot more talkative.'

'Are you sure you're okay?' Mark was serious, crowding him and lowering his voice. 'You don't have to prove anything to these guys, I mean, Youngjae doesn't drink at all-'

'Just because I haven't experienced any of this stuff before doesn't mean I don't want to, Mark. I appreciate your concern but I can handle myself.' It wasn't said unkindly, but he was growing increasingly annoyed by Mark's persistence. He seemed to notice the slight edge to his tone as he backed off a little, sighing.

'Just stay close to me when we go inside.' He licked his lower lip, eyes flickering over Jinyoung's face as he seemed to debate over what he would say next. 'You're cute, you'll get snatched up in there.'

Jinyoung was never one to miss a chance to tease, and Mark had offered it on a plate. He couldn't hold back the sudden burst of laughter that spilled from his lips before he cooed at the cringing older man. 'Wah, did Markie just call me cute?' Mark rolled his eyes, and Jinyoung wrapped his arms around his waspy waist, squeezing hard. 'Tell me I have beautiful eyes, woo me.'

'Don't be an ass.' Mark giggled softly, trying in vain to escape Jinyoung's death grip as the younger man made a show of trying to kiss his cheek. The air left Jinyoung's lungs in a hard blow by Mark's palm, and he released his victim at last, voice thin with pain.

'Sorry, I went too far.'

As they laughed, Jackson appeared between them with wide eyes and a suspicious glare in Jinyoung's direction. 'What did I miss?'

'Nothing, you pervert.' 

Ten minutes must have passed by without the queue moving even an inch, and one person inparticular seemed more impatient than the rest. Jaebum was rolling his eyes and pacing back and forth before he left the line and strolled toward the bouncers at the entrance. Jinyoung watched with interest as he said a few words and ducked inside, confused as to what he had just witnessed.

'What was that about?' He pointed to where Jaebum had just disappeared to, and Yugyeom followed his gaze.

'Jaebum always gets us into clubs, the bouncer will let us in in a second.' He shrugged. 'We're not sure how he does it.'

Mark was in his ear then, voice low and tinged with caution. 'Let's just say we don't ask. We all know.'

Before Jinyoung could ask Mark what on Earth he meant by that heavy statement, they were being waved inside by one of the burly men standing by the door and Jinyoung was swept up by the tide of his newfound friends as they rushed towards the entrance, his heart racing with anticipation as to what he would find when they entered.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> marks got a crush and jaebums shady af (sorry for the wait, my laptop is almost as trash as bambam)


	5. Spasms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man Uni sucks all the energy out of you, sorry for taking so long. Also TW cos this ones got some darker themes (just this chapter though)

The heat hit him as soon as they entered the club, the smell of sweat and alcohol mixing into something heady and intoxicating. If he wasn’t drunk it would’ve been overpoweringly nauseating, but with the liquor in his veins his veins thrummed with excitement and anticipation. He could only clutch Mark’s hand tightly as the boys made their way to the bar, confused by the flashing lights and the bodies pushing past him. His feet were light, his body sluggish and his mind too foggy to wrap itself around walking in a straight line.

Mark’s hand found his waist as he guided him to the crowd gathered at the gaudily lit bar, his friend’s faces glowing pink and blue. He could barely follow the conversation happening around him, barely hear over the thrumming music and raised voices as they waited for a spot to open within the writhing bodies all eager to take another shot.

His body was itching for stimulation, and his confidence was on another level. He grew tired of waiting and found himself drifting away, shimmying through the crowd with a sloppy smile and a wink for anyone who turned around to complain at him for bumping into them. It worked, and soon he was pressed against the hard edge of the bar without any idea of what he actually aimed to do now he was there. He knew he didn’t really need another drink, but he wanted something in his hand, something to hold to prove he had a reason to be standing around.

‘You look smashed. You sure you want another?’ A smooth voice boomed in his ear, hot breath against his neck, and he recoiled in shock ready to fight the offender only to stop dead at the sight of Jaebum’s face dangerously close to his own.

God he wanted to tear that smirk off his face, be it with his hands or his lips.

‘I’m fine.’ Jinyoung shouted back, trying his best to compose himself. Hopefully Jaebum didn’t see him subtly gripping the edge of the bar for dear life to keep himself steady.

‘Sure you are…’

‘Don’t patronise me.’

I’m not, I’m just stating a fact.’

‘I’ve drank way more than you.’ Jinyoung pointed a finger and hoped it was in the right direction. ‘So don’t belittle me.’

‘So, so sensitive.’ Jaebum chuckled, or at least Jinyoung assumed he chuckled from the way he threw his neck back with a twitch of his already smirking lips. A throat had never looked so good. The older man leaned in again with some sense of sincerity on his otherwise smug face. ‘I just don’t want to be responsible for your first encounter with alcohol poisoning.’

‘Worry about yourself.’ Jinyoung fired back, feeling pretty darn pleased with himself. ‘Drink more and let’s see who’s drunker then.’

Jaebum watched him for a moment with a look of pure incredulity, though Jinyoung felt what he’d said had made sense. For some reason he was a lot closer to Jaebum than he’d intended, and rather than wanting to argue with him there was a burning urge within him to keep riling the older man up, to watch him get hot under the collar. He wanted to see what he would do if he stepped just a little closer.

Jaebum’s lips looked fuller under the neon lights, softer than before, and it was only when the bar man leaned in for their attention that he realised he’d been staring open mouthed like a hungry dog.

He watched Jaebum order a round of shots with curious eyes, not even aware of the bodies bumping against his in a fight to get a space at the bar - a space he was occupying without even ordering a drink. Four shot glasses were placed hard on the bar in front of them, alcohol sloshing out haphazardly and adding the thick layer of stickiness already coating the plastic.

When he looked back to Jaebum, there was a fight in his eyes. He slid two of the glasses over to Jinyoung, picking one up for himself before pouring a line of salt on the side of his hand.

‘What’s that?’

‘Lick it.’

‘What?’

Jaebum demonstrated, licking half the line before thrusting his hand before Jinyoung, and it was instinct to just follow along. Jaebum’s skin was warm against his tongue, but the salt made him recoil, though he didn’t have time to truly be disgusted by it because Jaebum was urging him with his eyes, lifting the shot glass to his own lips and imploring Jinyoung to follow.

It tasted like pure acid, burning a hole through the centre of his being, turning his stomach to liquid fire. He gagged immediately, but there was no way he’d let himself throw up, soldiering through his stomachs desperate attempts to purge itself of the offensive substance.

By the time he’d gathered himself he saw Jaebum was already knocking another shot back without flinching, slamming the glass onto the table. He went to reach for his second but it was empty, and at his questioning look Jaebum only swiped at his lip, raising an eyebrow and sauntering his way back through the crowd.

Jinyoung could only gawk in awe as Mark came to his side with a question in his eyes that Jinyoung really didn’t have the faculties to answer.

He just knew he was suddenly a lot warmer.

 

-

 

Time blurred by in breathless laughter as the night lazily rolled into the witching hour, hours ticking by with every bead of sweat that rolled down Jinyoung’s throat. He’d always loved music, loved singing, dancing, but he’d never had a safe place to let his passions out. Here there was nobody looking, nobody caring if he screamed his lungs out and threw his hips to and fro to the pulsing beat.

He was free, and his lungs burned at the thrill of it.

Yugyeom and Bambam were in a world of their own, at times dancing playfully with each other, seeming to be trying to out-idiot each other. In a moment they’d change to something sensuous and heated, scorching glances traded between them as their hips rolled together on the sticky dance floor, the scene kept private by the sheer mass of bodies dancing around them.

Mark was trying to keep up with Jinyoung’s utter abandon, the smile on his lips almost splitting his cheeks as they screamed the lyrics to all the songs they knew and Jackson gave it more passion than the both of them.

At last a song played that Jinyoung didn’t know, a beat he couldn’t quite catch on to, and he took a moment to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his neck and brow. It was as good a time as any to remember he came here with more people, and he cast his eyes around the club in search of the missing links.

Youngjae was in the last place he expected him to be but also the first place he looked. He was shirtless, writhing inside the metal cage that looked out over the dancefloor with a ferocious, animalistic look in his half lidded eyes. Well, that was the first thing he noticed. The second was that he wasn’t alone. Pressed up behind him was a stranger Jinyoung hadn’t seen before, looking like Christmas had come early.

'Is he okay?' Jinyoung shouted into Mark’s ear, pointing to the boy he’d originally deemed to be awkward and innocent. 'I thought he didn’t drink? He looks fucked up.'

Mark followed his gaze, and just smirked, shaking his head. 'There’s more than alcohol in this club, and Youngjae gets his kicks elsewhere.'

Jackson butted his head between them, following their eyes before chuckling gleefully, obviously noticing the confusion in Jinyoung’s eyes. ‘He’ll be fine, this always happens.’

He didn’t know if it was their reassurance or not, but he went from caring a lot to being entirely uncommitted to the scene he’d been so focused on before. He just nodded and swayed slightly to the current rhythm, letting his mind wander back around the room. It wasn’t the same as before, distracted from the trance he’d been in moments ago.

And where was Jaebum?

He hadn’t seen the older man since he’d been abandoned at the bar in a rather dramatic fashion. Mark had turned away to throw some outdated mid-80’s hip hop moves with Jackson, and he tapped the older boy on the shoulder to let him know he’d be over by the bar.

Mark just nodded, and Jinyoung slipped away in search of the drink he’d set aside before the hit the dance floor. He stood for a while, pulling at his sodden shirt and sipping at his drink, pretending he wasn’t still looking around for Jaebum. He couldn’t deny it to himself that he was, though, because the moment he saw sharp eyes heading for the smoking area he was plunging through the crowd to follow.

Thick smoke immediately irritated his lungs as he stumbled drunkenly into the smoking area, and he coughed as he made his way through cigarettes held dangerously close to his face before catching sight of Jaebum again. He was leaning against a wall, rolling a cigarette with deft, slender fingers in the dim yellow light.

As he made his way over, a thrill ran through him at the look in Jaebum’s eyes as he caught sight of him, as if Jaebum had been waiting for him to come running.

'You don’t dance?' How much had Jinyoung been screaming? His voice was cracked and gruff, and he cleared his throat at the sound of it.

Jaebum smirked at his question, ‘I dance, just not to this kind of music.’ His eyes raked over Jinyoung’s sweaty, dishevelled state for a long moment before they flicked up to meet his once again, cat like and clever. ‘I had plenty of fun watching, anyway.’

‘What?'

'There’s a lot more to you than you let people believe, isn’t there?' Jaebum wet the edge of his rizla, folding it with quick precise movements and slipping the cigarette between his lips, his features glowing amber as he brought his lighter up and took a drag. Jinyoung was too distracted to bother focusing on the words coming out of his mouth, responding lazily.

'Wouldn’t you like to know?'

Apparently lazy meant effectively flirty.

Mirth danced in Jaebum’s eyes as he blew out a plume of smoke. ‘So, how about that tattoo?’

‘Depends on how much you’re paying me.’ Jinyoung’s body swayed closer unintentionally as he spoke, loose and lax and pumped up on adrenaline. ‘Don’t blame me if your parents don’t like it, either.

‘Can I pay you in favours?’ He winked, and Jinyoung’s heart wasn’t the only thing that swelled.

'Trying to barter, huh? My art isn’t cheap.'

'Just earlier you weren’t even sure you’d want to charge me. I give a good back rub, think about it.'

Jinyoung scoffed, though his stomach was turning in a funny way. He was ready to keep the vibe going with another loaded remark, but Jaebum suddenly stepped away from him, and when Jinyoung looked up in confusion he saw him glancing awkwardly over his shoulder. When he turned, Mark and Jackson were making their way through the crowd, drenched in sweat and fanning themselves. 

'Fuck it's hot in there! What are you guys doing?' Jackson blurted, clapping Jinyoung on the shoulder roughly, and Jaebum took a long drag from his cigarette in response. 

'Just getting some air.' Jinyoung shrugged. Honestly he missed Jaebum’s heat against him, and his eyes kept returning to the gaze that had moments before been scalding him, now turned towards the sky. Good God, what was wrong with this guy? Going from hot to cold all the time was driving Jinyoung up the wall, not to mention confusing the hell out of his dick. 'Where are the others?'

'Bambam and Yugyeom have wandered off somewhere, and the last we saw of Youngjae he was sat with some drag queens.' Mark shrugged like it was an everyday occurrence, so Jinyoung didn’t question it. ‘Are you okay, Jinyoung?’

‘Yeah, why?’

‘You look kinda off…’ Mark leaned closer, worry furrowed in his browse. ‘Your pupils are really wide. Did you take something?’

‘Stop trying to wind me up,’ Jinyoung shrugged off the hand Mark was trying to hold his face with, but the concern didn’t leave Mark’s expression. ‘Seriously, I’m fine! I’ve just been drinking all night.’

Jackson pulled him in for a tight side hug, messing his hair. ‘He’s fine! Don’t kill his vibe or we’ll be dragging him home in tears when the downer kicks in. First time drinking isn’t the time to get sad.’

He didn’t know why what Jackson had just said was funny, but at some point he’d started laughing hysterically. He pulled Mark in for a hug, nuzzling into his neck roughly.

‘I love you Mark. I love you guys.’

‘Jinyoung, seriously-‘

‘Mark! Seriously!’ Jinyoung laughed against Mark’s skin before pulling away with a wide grin. His skin felt cold and hot at the same time and he just wanted to dance, because – God – he had so much energy all of a sudden he couldn’t even look Mark in the eyes for more than a second. Everyone was talking so slowly, had they always been so slow? They were all frowning now, and Jinyoung couldn’t be bothered to hang around people that frowned.

He shoved his way back through the smoking area and into the club, his body immediately moving the the bass, trembling at the strength of it as he shimmied onto the dance floor. He didn’t know who he was dancing with, it just mattered that he was dancing.

And the lights were so beautiful and bright, and wasn’t everybody here so beautiful? He loved them all, all the strangers. He felt hands on his hips and he rolled into the body that was suddenly pressed against him, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, letting the moment wash over him in waves. Who was this person? He didn’t care, he just wanted to be touched.

Hot breath was on his lips before they were parted by drier ones, and he let his mouth fall open, allowed himself to be explored and dishevelled. He could barely respond, going slack against the hard body behind him.

The lips let up, and his feet were moving, guided by the same pair of hands on his hips. Now it was getting weird, where were they going? It was so nice before. He resisted for a moment but the hands stayed his course, directing him through the dance floor as his eyes rolled back into his skull over and over no matter how hard he tried to look ahead.

No, now he was starting to panic. He managed to turn his head, glancing at the man pushing him ahead and feeling his stomach turn at the sight of him, old and sweating and leering down at him. Where was Mark? His mouth couldn’t form words, couldn’t voice them loud enough over the noise of the crowd, over the pounding music.

It was bright suddenly, fluorescent light so much brighter than the strobes of the dancefloor, assaulting his blown pupils as he stumbled into a toilet stall, falling limp against the wall before he plummeted to his knees, throwing up promptly.

Who knew if he’d found the toilet then or not, he didn’t care, he just knew he needed to get whatever was in his body out right then and there. He heard the man behind him cursing something, complaining that he was disgusting, but Jinyoung could barely breathe, leaning his head on the cold porcelain and watching the world spin.

His head was yanked roughly, and another wave of nausea hit him at the sudden movement. It was worse when he saw a zipper before him, bitten fingernails fumbling at a leather belt.

His mouth was so much slower than his mind, but eventually he managed to scream. He didn’t know whose name he was screaming, or if he was even saying words, but there was definitely noise leaving him because the man was growing agitated, desperately trying to slap a meaty hand over his mouth. And then he wasn’t touching him anymore, and Jinyoung’s head was against something solid and cold and the world was still spinning.

He could hear someone shouting, the sound of a door slamming open and heavy fists connecting with flesh, and then nothing, just cold, hard, and comforting darkness.

His mouth tasted like vomit and he was cold. When he dared to open his eyes, the ground was rolling by beneath him, upside down. How was he moving? He wasn’t walking. A shoulder was pressed into his chest, a strong arm over his back.

‘Is he going to be okay? We shouldn’t have let him drink so much.’

‘This isn’t alcohol, someone slipped him something.’

‘I knew something was wrong, God he looked so fucked up. Did you see his eyes?’

‘We should’ve let the bouncers call the police.’

‘I would’ve gotten arrested, we’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.’

‘You don’t look fine – The two of you should be in hospital right now, this is ridiculous.’

Mark sounded pissed, Jinyoung didn’t think he’d ever heard him angry before. Oh, so Mark was here. He was calmed by that, at least, but he still felt sick. He heard Jaebum too, but when he spoke the body carrying him seemed to rumble a lot. He sounded like he was in pain.

‘I’m gonna be sick.’ Jinyoung muttered miserably, unsure if anyone could hear him, but at least he gave a warning. Lucky enough he was on the pavement faster than he could blink, a warm hand on his back as he relieved the pain in his stomach once again.

‘So, Jinyoung – one thing we forgot to tell you about nightclubs and alcohol. Don’t leave your drink.’ Jackson seemed to be trying for a light-hearted vibe, but Jinyoung didn’t know if he could actually smile anymore. He didn’t feel drunk at all, just empty.

He wiped at his mouth, sitting up in a daze and reaching out to whoever had let him down as if he was a child. To his surprise, it was Jaebum’s face he found leaning close to his own to help him to his feet, and he stumbled close to him with a shiver.

‘We looked everywhere for you.’ He breathed, and Jinyoung was thankful he had no strength, because he couldn’t think of a place he’d rather be right then than pressed up against Jaebum’s chest. ‘I should have noticed faster, I’m sorry Jinyoung.’

‘It’s Mmkay. Wanna sleep.’ He muttered against Jaebum’s shirt, clutching at him in a way he’d be wholly embarrassed about if he were sober. ‘Can’t walk, though.’

For a moment the warmth of Jaebum’s body was gone, and it was hard to supress the whine that arose at the loss before he was pulled onto a broad back, his knees hoisted over narrow hips. He smelt good, too and he nuzzled into his throat, uncaring of whether anyone saw.

He pressed a kiss to the warm skin he found exposed at Jaebum’s neck, and in a blink he was asleep again, unaware and uncaring of Jaebum’s response.

Unaware and uncaring of Mark’s.


	6. Aches

When Jinyoung felt the tendrils of consciousness weaving their way into his aching brain, he recoiled from the sudden burst of pain. His skull felt bruised and swollen, his nose blocked and his stomach as choppy as the sea. Risking opening an eyelid only resulted in an even faster development to his already crushing headache, and his throat was too dry and sore to swallow through.

A rather glib, patronizing voice sounded from somewhere in his mind that maybe alcohol really wasn’t for him.

It astounded him how he could be so overwhelmingly hot and sticky yet chilled to the bone simultaneously, and how hungry one could feel whilst sickening at the thought of eating anything. It was apparent that one side of his body was definitely stickier than the other, though. Shifting his body slightly he could feel his skin pulling away from whatever it was stuck to, his shirt sleeve damp and a ridiculous amount of warmth emenating from whatever he was pressed against.

At last he gathered the strength to brave the world, opening his eyes to Mark sleeping soundly beside him, though not on his sticky side. Soft breaths were leaving his lips, tickling the hairs on Jinyoung’s long-dead arm he seemed to have fallen asleep on. The bedsheets were tucked around him on all sides, almost swallowing him entirely save for the top of his head, and Jinyoung felt slightly less queasy at the picture of calm he painted.

However, not only did turning his head bring on another wave of sickness, but also revealed a very naked Jackson only just balancing on the edge of the bed, the sheets barely stretching to cover his decency. Mouth open, snoring gently and despite his nudity, looking completely at peace.

Peace that Jinyoung couldn’t bear any longer, not with how uncomfortable he was growing next to the serious heat Jackson was simply oozing. He shoved him with a grumble, astounded the guy didn’t fall from his miraculous perch on the bed but rather choked on his saliva before jolting awake. He flinched from the light, and Jinyoung watched without the energy to laugh at the series of emotions flitting across his face, his disgust at the brightness creeping from beneath the curtains and his apparent shock at being where he was.

With a small amount of mirth he thought that Jackson truly resembled their cavemen ancestors at that exact moment in time. In the brief period where Jackson was still trying to remember who and what he was, Jinyoung noticed how foreign the room was to him and wondered where exactly he was. A whole shelf was dedicated to neatly piled snapbacks, way too many pairs of shoes lined up against the wall and expensive clothes expertly folded and far too neat for Jinyoung’s tastes. Unmistakably the clothes were Jackson’s, but he’d never imagined him to be the anally retentive tidy type.

Eventually Jackson slapped his hands to his face, rubbing at his skin with a groan. ‘What time is it? Shit…’

‘Too early.’ Jinyoung’s voice was broken and thin, his throat burning just from those two words.

There was a moment of silence before he heard the sound of Jackson’s phone unlocking. ‘It’s three in the afternoon.’

‘So why does it feel like six in the morning? I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.’

‘Yeah we got home at around five this morning. I’m surprised you can even speak right now, though – do you remember anything?’

Jackson leant back on the bed, perching with grace on the tiny amount of space that was left to him and completely unashamed of how naked he was. Jinyoung even found himself intrigued by how comfortable he himself was of Jackson’s nudity – Jackson just tended to set you at ease, made things feel normal. It was also pretty interested, and didn’t go unnoticed by Jinyoung, just how quickly Jackson’s grogginess upon waking up had been shrugged off in place of an alert concern for Jinyoung’s wellbeing.

‘Too much. Last thing I remember is being in a bathroom and feeling like I was gonna die, but nothing after that. God, I need to brush my teeth…’

‘Yeah, I know that feeling. It’s like you’ve got fungus growing on your gums, right? But yeah, we looked everywhere for you. I mean, we were all pretty fucked up at that point too but when we caught you in the smoking area we knew something was wrong. You looked really bad. JB was going crazy after that, grabbing people in the club trying to find out if they knew where you’d gone. The he saw some guy dragging you into the bathroom and I’ve really never seen him so angry – and I’ve seen him pretty angry.’

‘JB?’

‘Yeah, he beat the shit out of that guy. It was pretty scary, we had to drag you out of the club before anyone saw.’

‘I remember being in the stall, being too fucked to do anything. What did he give me? I don’t remember taking any drugs.’

‘He slipped it in your drink.’ Jinyoung’s stomach turned, remembering the vodka and coke he’d been naïve enough to set down while he danced. ‘It was just mandy but it’s not good to take that shit without people to keep you safe.’

‘Mandy?’

‘MDMA. It’s basically ecstasy with some other stuff thrown in. JB was beating himself up about it all the way home.’

‘What, why? He didn’t do anything.’

‘It was his mandy. You didn’t know? He sold it to the guy.’

Jinyoung’s stomach lurched, a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. For some reason he felt betrayed, though JB had no reason to have told him, he still felt lied to somehow. Jackson continued to speak, unknowing of how overwhelmed Jinyoung was at that moment.

‘He wouldn’t stop blaming himself for not noticing you were on something. Kept saying he should’ve been watching you. We told him he had no way of knowing, but he wouldn’t listen. He’s pretty obsessive when it comes to keeping us safe, even if he doesn’t like to show it.’

‘This is such a mess. I’m never drinking again.’ Jinyoung covered his sore eyes with his palms, rubbing at them and trying to ease the headache burning in his temples.

‘You just have seriously bad luck, man. This was one in a million, seriously, I don’t know anyone who’s had a worse first time drinking.’ Jackson chuckled, ruffled Jinyoung’s hair despite his whine of protest before squeezing him tightly for a second. ‘At least you’re safe.’

Jackson was sincere, and Jinyoung felt warmed despite the nausea roiling in his stomach and the strained ache in his heart. He was just beginning to enjoy Jackson’s warm arm beneath his head when deft fingers danced beneath his shirt, over his sensitive skin as Mark nuzzled into him like a needy cat. He grumbled as he shifted, throwing a leg over Jinyoung’s thigh and sighing.

‘Yeah, he’s a clingy sleeper. Reminds me of a little sloth.’ Jackson had an odd smile on his face as he spoke, watching Mark all lopsided. The smile didn’t fade when Mark muttered something nonsensical and opened his eyes with effort, looking directly at Jinyoung before struggling to sit up.

‘Are you okay? Do you need anything?’ He was alert despite his sleepiness, scrambling to check Jinyoung over like a fussing mother.

‘Woah, calm down I’m fine, just need darkness and quiet voices. Maybe something greasy.’

‘Greasy? Jackson’s right there.’

‘Fuck you.’

‘Why are you naked – God, why do I even ask?’ Mark sighed, leaning his head against the wall. ‘Always naked.’

‘Always?’ Jinyoung chuckled, and Mark looked at him with misery.

‘Whenever I sleep in his bed he’s in his birthday suit by the time I wake up. If I strapped him into a straightjacket he’d find a way to strip out of it in his sleep.’

‘My inner self needs to be free, y’know? I can’t be tied down when my mind is expanding. But seriously, I just get really hot. You don’t mind, right, Jinyoung? Everyone’s already used to it so I forget it might be weird to you.’

‘I couldn’t care less, Jacks. Honestly I think I’ve lost the ability to care, I feel dead. Do people really take drugs for fun? It doesn’t seem worth it.’

‘Yeah, it sucks. Snuggle up and I’ll call in some take-out.’

The moment Jackson left, Jinyoung missed his oppressive warmth, dragging the sheets over his head and cuddling up to Mark. He closed his eyes, and let his words become quiet and intimate in the small space between their lips.

‘I’m sorry, I should have been more careful.’

Mark sounded as if he was still half asleep, but still his voice was thick with emotion. ‘It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself. We should’ve taken better care of you. I…I should have been watching.’ He took a deep breath, the words falling from his mouth in a rush, as if he wouldn’t be able to get them out if not all at once. ‘When I lost you on the dancefloor the first time I was so worried, then I finally found you outside and you were gone again! It was insane… seeing JB carrying you out of the bathroom. I thought you were dead, you looked so pale and weak. Seriously, it was the first thought that ran through my head, that I’d taken you to this place and got you killed. I looked so crazy, crying and screaming half the way home and Jackson was trying so hard to calm me down. God, Jinyoung, I was so worried.’

Mark began to wipe at his face feverishly, ashamed of his tears, and Jinyoung wrapped him in his arms tightly feeling Mark’s back shudder with his sobs. After a while he spoke again, his voice muffled by Jinyoung’s shirt.

‘Fucking JB… it’s not entirely his fault, but I just want somebody to be angry at.’

‘I didn’t know he was selling drugs.’

‘There’s a few clubs in town where he can get in free for selling it. It gets people hyped, makes them buy more drinks, so the clubs like it. I knew something bad would happen at some point. Anything could have happened to you… it nearly did happen to you and I couldn’t have stopped it.’

Jinyoung held Mark tighter, partially to comfort the boy and partially to ease his own headache. ‘I’m fine, Mark. I’m glad you guys were there.’

Mark cried himself to sleep before Jackson returned with food, dragging Jinyoung away from the dreams he was only just succumbing to. But food was more important than sleep right then, and soon he and Jackson were sat against the wall, wrapped up warm and watching Netflix.

The smell of pizza must have seeped through the crack in the door, because soon a very disheveled looking Youngjae came slumping into the room, looking far less bright than yesterday but no less smiley. After that followed Bambam and Yugyeom, deep circles beneath their eyes and a pallid tone to their skin as they dropped themselves at the base of the bed, wordlessly digging into the leftovers.

Mark was warm, sprawled across Jinyoung’s lap, and he made sure to keep a few extra slices safe from the never ending hands clawing at his pizza box. Though he was warm, full and content, it didn’t escape his notice that somebody else was missing.

‘Where’s JB?’

‘He’s sulking.’ Replied Yugyeom offhandedly, and Jinyoung looked to Jackson to clarify.

‘He’s at the gym, I think. He goes to the gym when he’s in a bad mood.’

‘I really ruined every one’s night.’

‘Seriously, it could’ve happened to any of us, you’re just really, really unlucky. Besides he’s just beating himself up over getting you into that situation, he carried you all the way home even though he was beaten up pretty bad.’ Youngjae supplied, worse for wear but no less accommodating as he looked at Jinyoung with sympathy.

Worry and regret set Jinyoung’s heart to beat a little faster at the revelation, and he couldn’t hide his emotions for a moment. ‘Is he ok?’

‘Bruised a rib I think, nothing serious.’ Jackson chimed in. ‘But his face is a mess. That guy didn’t hold back. I came in when he had JB’s head against the toilet seat, and this was a big guy, just pounding his head against it. Fucking terrifying. And you looked dead, honestly, Mark was a mess when he saw you. What a night. Hey, don’t look so guilty – it was unforgettable, that’s for sure. What’s university about if not making memories? They can’t all be good memories.’

‘Write a book, Jacks. Make some inspirational posters. Run for President.’

Maybe I will, you little fuck. I didn’t see you coming to Jinyoung’s rescue.’ Jackson kicked at Bambam’s head and the two began to wrestle, growing tired eventually and just rolling off each other to lie on the floor and watch tv again.

Jinyoung just pulled mark closer, watching him frown in his sleep and wondering what he was dreaming. Eventually his thoughts drifted to JB again. He could remember being carried by him, and the bitter feeling of betrayal was replaced by a warm flush in the pit of his stomach, remembering his solid back and the warmth that oozed from him, especially his throat. Where Jinyoung kissed him.

It was with that thought that Jinyoung wanted to die, and also when Mark decided to open his eyes from where he lay in his lap, looking at Jinyoung with what seemed like embarrassment before a shy smile sprung to his lips, unaware of Jinyoung’s inner turmoil

They watched tv for hours, falling asleep here and there and snacking on more pizza whenever they were hungry, Jinyoung constantly being pulled back into bed whenever he tried to fetch water for people or tidy Jackson’s now far more dirty bedroom.

Jinyoung was roused by something when he’d dropped off to sleep again, feeling marginally better than before but desperate for a pee. The light from the laptop was the only illumination in the room, but he could see everyone else was asleep. He pried the dead weight off him, Jackson’s feet and marks torso and Youngjae’s thigh and all the duvets wrapped around his legs.

Eventually he was free and he stumbled to the bathroom through the dark. Though the light was on, he paid it no mind, squeezing his tired eyes shut and ready to fall right back to sleep as soon as he was done. He stood at the toilet to do his business, swaying on his feet and pondering the dreams he’d only just left behind, listening to the sound of water and enjoying the steamy warmth of the bathroom.

When he realized that was out of the ordinary, he finally opened his sensitive eyes with no shortage of effort, shocked to come face to face with a very naked Jaebum as he stepped out of the shower. Immediately he stuffed his dick back into his boxers, spluttering an awkward apology as Jaebum stared, just as surprised as Jinyoung to see him there.

Though the idea was to look anywhere but at Jaebum, he still managed to get a good eyeful of what he was working with. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased.

Soon enough the older man sprang to grab a towel, wrapping it around his waist before he pressed himself back against the wall, seeming to be just as embarrassed as Jinyoung if the redness of his face had any say.

‘I’m still half asleep – God – sorry – I… I didn’t see anything.’ Jinyoung rambled, lying through his teeth as he tried to diffuse the awkward situation. It didn’t work, because Jaebum stayed silent for a long period of time, and Jinyoung just wanted to crawl out of his own skin, not knowing whether to just get out of there or wait for Jaebum to say something.

There was only so long he could keep his eyes from wandering again, clenching his teeth in anticipation of what expression might be on his face. However, his eyes stopped at his chest, the bruising on his ribs, the blackened jaw and eye.

‘Christ, are you okay?’

‘Shouldn’t I be asking you that?’

Jaebum was looking at him strangely, guilt and something soft far too evident on his previously unreadable face, and it caused Jinyoung to soften his words.

‘I’m not the one that’s black and blue.

‘It’s nothing.’

‘It doesn’t look like nothing.’

Jaebum managed a smirk, though Jinyoung didn’t miss the way he folded his arms to hide the bruises on his ribs, and how he turned his head to hide the damage to his face. ‘You should’ve seen the other guy.’

‘I’m sorry you had to do that for me.’

The older man watched him for a long moment, then frowned, then clicked his tongue as he turned away. He stopped in the door way, facing him with a far less stern expression, one of regret and disappointment.

‘Jinyoung, you were nearly date raped with a drug I was selling. Something that wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t got you drunk in the first place.’ He was firm in his words, but his eyes were kind, apologetic. ‘I nearly killed him. Fuck, I was so… I’m sorry that this happened.’

He clenched his fists as he spoke, his eyes moving to stare resolutely at the tiled floor as his words became too revealing. His knuckles were raw and red.

It was all a little too intimate, the two of them standing there, too unfamiliar to speak plainly, and Jinyoung couldn’t think of any other way to move the conversation elsewhere.

‘Can we talk about this somewhere else? My pee is still in the toilet.’

 

-

 

Jaebum’s room was immaculate apart from his rumpled black bedsheets. Grey walls were cast in a red hue from the glow of his lampshade, shoes were lined up neatly – all spotless, and the room smelled of cotton and freshly washed clothes.

Jinyoung took a seat on his bed, too tired now to feel uncomfortable or awkward, almost working on autopilot. It was hard not to give in to the urge to simply climb beneath the sheets and sleep, and he watched Jaebum with drooping eyes.

The older man wandered around his room with his towel hanging low on his narrow hips, taking out some sweatpants from a drawer before moving to tug at the only thing maintaining his decency. It was then that Jinyoung realized he was staring really hard at Jaebum’s hands, and it was apparent Jaebum noticed too, looking at his with a raised eyebrow.

‘You just gonna watch or can I have some privacy?’

‘I’ve already seen everything. You shy? Nothing I haven’t seen before.’ Jinyoung teased, reveling in the small twitch of Jaebum’s lips.

‘What makes you think you can have the pleasure of seeing it twice? And I’m pretty sure mines quite different to what you’ve seen.’

‘What makes yours so special?’

‘Never said it was special.’

They laughed awkwardly before Jinyoung realized Jaebum was still waiting for him to turn away, and he gave him some privacy. Though the moment Jaebum turned around his eyes began to wander once again, enjoying the sight of his broad back, and repressing a sigh when his towel dropped to the floor with a deafening thump.

It wasn’t hard to imagine Jaebum worked out a lot. His bottom was toned and tight, and his arms flexing beneath his skin as he shucked his sweatpants on. He had dimples above his buttocks where his spine met his pelvis, and Jinyoung felt overwhelmed by the urge to press his lips to the dip of his back.

He resumed the façade of having been looking away the whole time once Jaebum made a move to turn around, pulling up his computer chair and straddling it backwards. He seemed at ease, loading up his laptop to play some music quietly, not what Jinyoung would usually listen to, but not all too bad.

Eventually he leaned over the back of his chair, watching Jinyoung for a while as the younger man fought to keep his burning eyes open. And in his exhaustion, Jinyoung hadn’t the energy to be subtle or considerate with his words, or afraid to voice a question that could warrant an awkward response.

‘Why do you sell drugs?’

‘That’s a blunt question.’

‘It’s a simple one.’

‘Not really.’

‘Should I ask something else?’

Jaebum chuckled slightly, rolling his eyes and shifting in his seat. He didn’t shy away from Jinyoung’s prying, though, letting out a short breath.

‘It’s easy money, not a lifestyle. I’m not some high-rolling drug dealer riding round in a Mercedes and sniffing coke out of a strippers ass crack.’ He smirked, but his next words were said with a frankness Jinyoung welcomed. ‘I’ve never seen someone get spiked before. To be honest with you, I flushed my whole supply last night. After you went to bed. I was scared shitless. I could have ruined your life.’

‘You’re talking as if you did.’

‘You were nearly raped-‘

‘-Yeah, everyone keeps reminding me.’ Jinyoung didn’t mean to be so curt, but he was so tired of hearing the word, too raw to process what had happened to him properly yet. He just wanted to focus on anything else.

Jaebum was silent for a while, obviously awkward, but eventually a soft sound left his lips. ‘Sorry.’

‘Let’s talk about something else.’ Jinyoung sighed, laying back on Jaebum’s bed and closing his eyes. ‘Where are your parents?’

‘My family moved to London when I was young. They think I’m doing a Masters degree here but I really just hung around after I got my bachelors. They don’t need to know that.’

It was easier with his eyes closed, his body relaxing and his mind uncaring of the usual anxieties he held in conversation.

‘You have the fear too.’

‘The fear?’

‘That feeling that no matter what you do it won’t be right. Like the second you stand in front of them they’ll know every mistake you’ve made, all the bad decisions, so it’s easier to just run away and hide.’

‘I won’t lie, you’re making a lot of sense. My dad’s pretty important, there’s a lot of pressure.’

‘What mistake are you running away from?’

‘I wouldn’t know where to start. You?’

‘You didn’t answer my question so I won’t answer yours.’ Jinyoung smirked, hearing the smile in Jaebum’s voice.

‘You’re not dumb, are you? Let’s just say my family are pretty intense with the whole marry and have kids thing. My dad thinks I should be learning the tricks of the business already, and my Mum is always asking if I’ve met a girl and if she can send me on a date with her friends’ daughters. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this…’

‘You don’t want kids?’

‘I love kids. They always cry when they see me though, something about my face. My little sister said I had scary eyes.’

Jinyoung sat up, crossing his legs. ‘You do, in a way.’

‘Thanks.’

‘It’s not an insult.’ Jaebum stiffened slightly, looking anywhere but at Jinyoung, and he wondered why his words had caused him to feel so awkward. ‘What about marriage? You don’t have a girlfriend?’

‘I’m too young for that stuff, it’s too much pressure. I just want to have fun before I become my parents and hate everything.’

‘You don’t think you’ll suddenly fall in love and elope or something?’

‘I don’t believe in that love at first sight crap. I think you grow to love people, it doesn’t just happen straight away. People hide too much of themselves and you can’t read them, if you fall in love with what they’re pretending to be then you end up being feeling like an idiot. Eventually they let all the ugly things show and that’s when you decide whether you can love them with the flaws too, I guess. Yeah, I can be deep, stop smirking. My parents were never in love, it’s just something they had to do, and they deal with the fact they don’t like each other by being apart constantly. I guess I’m scared of that, of being afraid of the one person I’m supposed to share everything with.’

Though he was listening attentively, Jinyoung was starting to doze despite his interest and intrigue in what Jaebum had to say, and his surprise at his lack of embarrassment. He lay back against the bed again, curling onto his side and watching Jaebum from the new angle, letting his eyes drift shut every now and then. Some time passed before Jaebum spoke again.

‘What about you? I gave you an answer.’

‘I’m here to pretend I don’t know my parents think I’m gay.’ He said through a yawn, shocked by how effortlessly the words left his mouth. Immediately he closed his eyes, afraid to see what face Jaebum might be wearing, letting his words sit in the air between them and preparing for whatever might happen.

Nothing happened.

With effort he looked at Jaebum, to see him watching back, seeming to be choosing his words carefully.

‘Would they be upset by that?’

‘What do you think?’

‘You tell me. I don’t know what their thoughts are on that kind of thing.’

‘They’d be very upset, to say the least. Having a son who not only won’t earn them money but won’t even give them grand children, or a pretty daughter in law… Christ, I’m everything an Asian parent doesn’t want.’

He immediately felt tears coming, a thickness in his throat as he forced his last few words out and threw an arm over his face to conceal the sudden surge of emotion. He’d never spoken his thoughts aloud, not even to Mark, and it was overwhelming.

Jaebum’s voice rang clear through the buzzing in Jinyoung’s ears, comforting as he fought himself not to sob. ‘It doesn’t mean they’re right, and it doesn’t mean they wouldn’t try and understand. Our parents grew up in a different time. Hell, even I didn’t know a single gay guy until I met Mark, and I’ve been far from home for a long time. It’s all about your experiences and whether you let them open your mind or not.’

‘You’re deeper than I thought you’d be.’ Jinyoung said more into the duvet than the air, muffled and quiet. He wiped at his eyes, sniffed, and when he felt the bed dip suddenly he opened his eyes to see Jaebum very close.

He’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t leap, didn’t swell at the almost tender smile on his lips as he looked down upon Jinyoung’s teary, swollen face.

‘I’d rather you keep thinking I’m shallow, lest people catch onto the fact that I’m actually a nice guy.’

He lingered, but soon moved to get beneath the covers, and Jinyoung immediately stood, ready to stumble back into Jackson’s room and straighten his mind out.

As he moved, though, Jaebum pulled up the other side of the duvet expectantly. ‘I’m guessing Jackson was naked when you woke up. I keep all my clothes on, don’t worry.’

‘You sure?’

‘About letting you sleep in here or whether I strip? It’s freezing, just get in before this gets awkward.’

Jinyoung couldn’t help but chuckle, gingerly getting under the covers and lying on his back. He tensed when Jaebum switched off his lamp, plunging them into darkness, and he heard him turn to face the other way.

He was on a rollercoaster of emotion, at times hurt, others entertained, and now he was hard, and his heart was beating out of his chest. He thought Jaebum had fallen asleep, but he spoke after a while, a whisper to the darkness, rumbling from the back of his throat.

‘Next time we go out, it won’t be like last night, I promise.’

‘I’d hope not. I’m glad to know there’ll be a next time. Thought you’d all be kinda wary of me after that whole debacle.’

‘Don’t be stupid, everyone’s crazy about you and we’ve only known you a day.’

‘We? You’re crazy about me?’

Jaebum didn’t take the bait, grumbling into his pillow. ‘Do you wanna stay in here or should I open the window and throw you out?’

‘Oof, someone’s grumpy when they’re tired.’ Jinyoung teased, though he jumped slightly when he felt the bed shift, fearing some sort of punishment for being a pain in the ass. Jinyoung could hear the smirk in the older man’s voice as he leaned on his elbow, watching Jinyoung in the dark.

‘Keep talking, just try it.’

‘Why? What ya gonna do? I have immunity ‘cos you’re feeling super guilty about what happened so I’m gonna revel in that for a while.’

‘You think that, but I couldn’t give a shit, you smart ass.’

Deft fingers attacked every ticklish spot on his body, and the two of them writhed under the sheets, kicking and punching and crying with laughter, gasping for breath. It was only when he managed to press his palm to the wrong spot that Jaebum let up on his torture, recoiling immediately with a groan.

‘Woah, sorry, what did I do, are you okay?’

‘Yeah hang on, fuck, my ribs a bit fucked up. It’s not your fault.’

Jinyoung leaned over him with worry as Jaebum hissed in pain, and found himself speaking without thought once again.

‘Thanks, for taking me home.’

’I already told you-‘

‘I don’t care, just accept my thanks for fucks sake.’

‘Ok, I accept, now roll over and sleep before you injure me again, you’re dangerous.’

‘Yeah, don’t forget. Don’t fuck with me. Remember the name.’

They chuckled as they settled down to sleep once again, and Jinyoung felt his heart stop when he was pulled against Jaebum’s chest, strong arms around his waist and his nose pressed to the back of his neck.

‘Is this ok?’ The hairs at Jinyoung’s nape tickled with Jaebum’s soft question, and it was hard not to shiver.

‘It’s fine.’ It was more than fine.

‘Good.’

He couldn’t think, nevermind sleep. He wondered if Jaebum could feel how tense he was, worried if he moved he’d give him the wrong (or right, in this case) idea, desperate to release the pressure building in his nether regions. He lay like that for hours, listening to Jaebum’s soft breaths and feeling the way his hands sometimes curled into his shirt, or he’d twitch suddenly, murmur something. It was a world away from the man he’d met yesterday, the one who seemed to be from another planet and utterly unattainable, untouchable, flirty and confident and in control. Now he was vulnerable, flawed, and Jinyoung wondered how his life could be filled with so much more in just one night.

He fell asleep warm, but awoke cold.


End file.
